Take My Hand
by Beckles909
Summary: Castiel has lived a very long time, but it wasn't until the Winchester boys that he began to feel.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Marry Winchester was right whenever she told her two boys that angels were watching over them; we were. All of the angels in my garrison had the job of watching over the Earth, and the Winchesters were included in that task. And when that brave woman was burnt into ashes as her young family watched helplessly, we were ordered not to interfere. Even though it was evil that ripped that poor family apart, we had to let those events unfold. After all, it was all part of the plan, no matter how horrible it seemed. To be perfectly honest, however, it did not seem all that horrible… not at the time, at least. I always knew what was to become of the boys. Sam: the tortured soul with demon blood flowing through his veins along with the strong desire to be normal. And Dean: the warrior and big brother with terrible tragedy etched into his destiny. They were our vessels, perfectly manufactured to house Lucifer and Michael for the epic battle that would decide the end of the world. Our orders were to watch over them, just as Mary Winchester had said. It was not our job to care for them. That was where I went wrong.

Chapter One

I was honoured when Michael appointed me the task of retrieving Dean Winchester from Hell. After carefully planning my move, I cloaked myself and descended into the pit of destruction my elder brother, Lucifer calls his home. There, I walked amongst the aisles of screaming souls and their torturers who were continuously ripping them further and further apart. Unlike Dante, I did not stop to observe; I had work to do. I had to find Dean Winchester, and when at last I did, I could not help but cock my head to the side in wonder. The boy I had watched grow up was unrecognisable in this new setting. Back on Earth, Dean had always been a rough man, not afraid to hurt or kill the enemy, but still there was always a sadness in his eyes… But not down here. His lips curled into a sneer as he sliced away at the agonising soul on his table. The screams and pleas had no sobering affect on him. This was not the man I had expected to find. This man was broken, and I must admit, it was then that I began to feel for Dean Winchester. This struck me as surprising. As angels we are ordered not to sympathise; it interferes with our faith… But there was something about Dean that broke those rules. Perhaps it was how helpless he seemed or that he had fallen so far from what I knew he was. I don't know. But watching him sink deeper and deeper into sin, burned rage in my own stomach, so I gripped him firmly on the arm and took him back home.

Before rescuing Dean, my preparations included traveling to Pontiac, Illinois to the home of Jimmy Novak: my vessel. I spoke to Jimmy and told him of his great importance. He was chosen by God to aid my fight against evil. At first, he was afraid, but again and again, I proved to him that I was to be trusted. His family was not convinced, but I needed Jimmy, not his family. Jimmy agreed to letting me in, so I drifted down upon him, and walked away from the people that he loved and the place he called home. I felt no shame in tearing Jimmy from his wife and daughter. Back then, things were just a simple matter of following orders… except for when it came to Dean Winchester.

Upon our first face-to-face meeting, I was successful in my attempt to impress him, for Dean was miraculous and I was just Castiel, and angel of limited importance up in Heaven. But Dean looked at me with fascination and a small hint of fear. He made me feel powerful, and though I knew such an emotion could be dangerous, I secretly reveled in it.

In those first meetings of our relationship, I stayed true to myself, Castiel: the soldier, humbly devoted to God no matter what the cost. I was harsh with Dean, ignoring his feelings, and overlooking how broken he still was from his time spent in Hell. But as time went on, I began to find it harder and harder to be so blunt with Dean. For the first time in my long life, I began to question the orders put to me. There was something about these Winchester brothers that charmed me. It was their defiance towards those trying to pull them apart. They had so much love and devotion for one another, and that was incredible. I knew that no matter how loyal I was with my own brothers and sisters that I could never have a bond as close as the Winchester boys had together.

I should have been more careful with these emotions, because my brothers and sisters started to catch wind of them. They teased me [well, as much as angels can tease] about my fondness for the older Winchester. They didn't understand. They simply lectured me on the dangers of becoming humanized. And they were right. God loves humans, but he loves the angels, too. It was prevalent that I behave like the creature he had created me, for my father is right in all things.

So I went with Uriel to bring back Anna, my big sister, whom I had looked up to for so long. I did not want to kill her, but orders _must_ be obeyed. Standing across from the Winchester brothers with Anna at their side, I felt torn. My obedience was challenged, and no amount of talking myself into allegiance with my brother could do anything about it. I remember when Anna fell. She had confided in me about her doubts against our father. I had begged her to be rational. God loves us, and she rebelled against him. She fell to Earth, the place she admired so much, and I didn't understand. But there in the barn, Anna looked so human, so strong, and passionate, and _sad_. I knew the last thing that she wanted was to become and angel again and return to the home she had finally gotten away from, and the family who treated her as an outcast. I think I'd be right in assuming that she'd rather die than come home, but Sam and Dean would never let that happen. I knew it was a trap when Dean they were giving her up. For months I had witnessed the Winchesters' loyalty, and could detect it now in the lines of Dean's face as he kissed my sister's lips.

I watched my sister become ultimately human in this moment, and I felt longing spread through my body. Between Anna and Dean there were so many feelings. How strange it must be to taste another person, and be eager for them to want you the way that you want them. How strange it is to cry tears of sorrow or frustration when things are not going as you want them to. How strange it is to care so deeply for someone who is not God. These things were very strange, but I envied those who have the ability to feel them. In that moment, I understood why my sister had chosen to fall so far. These feelings seemed like painful things to endure, but right now, I could hardly stand feeling nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

In time, my attachment to the Winchesters became dangerous. At first, it was just subtle interest that led me to invisibly watching over them during their daily activities. It was my job, after all, as an angel to protect them. But it became more than that, and after a short amount of time, I found myself riding in the back of the Impala, smiling at the boys I now considered my friends. They, of course, were not aware of this, for I had not revealed myself to them, but I figured it was best to give that time. Just like with Jimmy Novak, I had to prove to them that I could be trusted. But with Sam and Dean, it was not that simple. I saw them as the ultimate humans, and though it was wrong of me to be so enamoured with them, I found myself nervous to just come out and explain to them the feelings I was struggling with.  
So until I could work up the courage, I would continue to watch them silently as they traversed across the country. The boys behaved strangely, but after repetition of these actions, I grew to understand them a bit better. Most of the time when they would argue, I found that I was wrongly concerned because they were just joking. They would laugh and call one another names, and they looked happy, which was refreshing. I would laugh with them, not because I understood what was humorous, but because it felt like being a part of their family.  
But soon enough, I was caught by my own family, and they were not at all happy with what they saw. "Castiel, your bond with these humans is getting out of hand," Uriel warned me as he surprisingly appeared next to me in the Impala. "The rest of the angels and myself grow worried that your faith in them is overpowering that of your true family and your father."  
"No. I could never… I love father, Uriel. I am just watching over the Winchesters; that has nothing to do with my allegiance to Heaven."  
"It had better not… It is written that Sam Winchester will open the final seal, releasing Lucifer from his cage. This will happen, Castiel, and you must not interfere. Because if you do, you will be punished."

And there it was: I was lying to my brother. I _did_ love my father, more than anything else, but I could not stand behind the apocalypse. It was well known that my father cared for the Earth a great amount, so I could not see why he would be behind his Earth children to be destroyed by his angel children… especially when it could so easily be avoided. Sam could cut this demon blood addiction if Dean asked him to. I just had to tell him, before it was too late. So I crept into Dean Winchester's dreams and told him that I had to speak to him of an important and secretive matter, but even there was unsafe. I was never able to warn him, for I was captured, and dragged back to Heaven to be punished for my sins.

My brothers and sisters showed me no mercy as they cut into my grace and shouted abuse in my shameful face. I had been blasphemous, dangerous, selfish, weak, and _human_. I didn't love my father. My loyalty was to the Winchesters, not to my own kin. I was the disgrace of Heaven, and unless I swore to delete my newly developed feelings, I will be killed before I fall just like Anna and Lucifer. Conflicted and in great pain, I wept for their forgiveness. They were right: I had betrayed them, and deserved all of the harm they caused me. I repented for my sins, and begged for them to let me make it up to them.

Finally, they let me back to Earth, where I took the child, Claire Novak as my vessel. I tried to put Jimmy Novak to rest; he had been so good to me. Using his daughter's hand, I smoothed his hair from his damp forehead. He shuddered and pleaded for me to take his mangled body instead. I looked at him, and felt such extreme pity and guilt for hurting this faithful man so much. But I needed a body, so I obeyed his wishes and took his, releasing the girl. Jimmy Novak was no more. He was only me, Castiel. And I was loyal to God, not man… and certainly not Dean Winchester.


	3. Chapter 3

Once again I found myself on the side of the angels, and though it was the natural order, I had never felt so wrong. My orders were harsh and targeted just where they would hurt me the most. I had to lie to Dean, to tell him that he could defeat Lilith and keep the final seal from being broken. He did not want to pledge allegiance to my family. He did not trust me anymore, and he had every right not to, for here I was lying to his face. But he agreed to be on our side, because he loved his brother, and wanted to keep him safe at all costs.  
I went from one shameful deed to the next. After my meeting with Dean, I was sent to lure my own sister to her execution. Anna was not a fool, however. She knew something was wrong; she could sense how conflicted I was. And away she went, and though I was being loyal to Heaven, I had never felt like more of a traitor I my entire life.  
I went through the next few days feeling my human-like feelings very strongly. Having regained Heaven's trust, I was allowed to watch over the Winchesters once more, but I was cautious because I knew I was being watched. Sam had a foreign look in his face. He was so full of demon blood that he was hardly himself. And Dean was so reserved from the loss of his brother. I hated to make things worse by carrying out Zachariah's future plans.  
I could not look Dean in the eye when Zachariah and I brought him to the Green Room. Dean was suspicious of us, and it hurt to be lying so outright to such a brave man. Zachariah wanted it to be me who broke the news to him about letting the final seal be broken, but I could not go through with it. Without losing face in front of my older brother, I told him that he would deliver the news better, so my arrogant superior did just that. I sat in another room, with my heavy head in my hands, trying desperately not to imagine the betrayed look upon Dean's face.

The hours passed, and finally I could not hold back any longer. There Dean was, still trying to get a hold of his brother and stop this evil from coming true. When he spoke to me, his voice was angry, but he had a look upon his face that warned me that he would try to appeal to my better nature. I knew I had to block out my emotions and do what was written in my destiny to do. Still, I couldn't completely hold out the quaver in my voice as I apologized for the way things ended up… I didn't think he would forgive me right away, but I was not anticipating him punching me in the face. "Try to understand, this is long foretold. This is your-"

"Destiny?" he huffed, cutting me off. "Don't give me that holy crap. Destiny… God's plan… it's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me, and keep _you_ in line!" I drew in a sharp breath. Dean had called me many names before, but I only felt them now. He was right. I _was_ stupid. "You know what's real?" he asked, his voice lowering. "People. Families. That's real… and you're gonna watch them all burn?" I know, Dean. I know it is. I don't want this to happen. I want to save them, but I can't.

"What is so worth saving?" I fought back, using the anger at myself to fuel my retort. "I see _nothing_ but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt… your anger… confusion… in Paradise all is forgiven. You'll be at peace… even with Sam." I looked away from him before my eyes gave away my lies. If only he could just believe me, I could save him from all this… but of course he was not on board with my speech.

He drew my eyes back to his and shook his head. "You can take your peace, and shove it up your lily, white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is." Oh Dean. I couldn't go on. In that instant, he was more glorious and more human than he'd ever been before, and I had to look away before melted into the ground at his feet. "This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good _soldier_. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it. Look at me!" Dean grabbed my arm in the same place I had clutched his a year ago in Hell, and forced me again to meet his gaze. "You were going to help me once, weren't you? You were going to warn me about all this before they dragged you back to Bible camp." Visions of the pain I endured during my punishment rose up on my skin. "Help me _now_, please."

"What would you have me do?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Get me to Sam! We can stop this before it's too late!"

But it wasn't that simple. I wanted to stop this, but there were precautions to be weighed. "If I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed." And I couldn't stand being responsible for the death of those boys… my boys. But I didn't say that. Perhaps I should have.

"If there's anything worth dying for, this is it." With my eyes I pleaded with him to not ask this of me. Please don't make me go against my family. Disgusted with my weakness, Dean shook his head and walked away from me, his body shivering in anger. "You spineless, _soulless_ son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead. We're done."

Tears stuck in my throat as I stood rooted in the spot he had left me. "Dean," I choked, trying one last time to mend things.

"We're done," he repeated, his voice like a growl. I squoze my eyes shut, overcome with shame. When he turned his head around, I was gone.

Whenever I am in times of trouble, I talk to my father. And though he never answers me, I still feel better than before. I did so now, owning up to my doubts in destiny, the apocalypse, and Paradise. I told him of my admiration for the man in the other room, and that I was afraid to see Sam carry out in breaking the final seal. And the more I confessed, the more I began to realize who I truly was loyal to. I was loyal to those who made me feel like I belonged. To those who taught me to do the right thing. I was loyal to the Winchesters.

Catching Dean completely off guard, I covered his mouth with my hand and pinned him against the wall. With my eyes, I told him to trust me. Confused, he nodded, and watched in wonder as I dragged his demon knife across my forearm. Blood spilled from the cut, but I had no time to feel the pain. Without wasting time, I dipped my fingers in my own blood and began drawing a sigil on the wall in front of me… a sigil that would dispel angels, and officially make me a rebel again Heaven. But I knew it was right, and that is the belief that drove me on even when Zachariah caught me in the act. Not listening to a word he said, I slammed my red, soaked hand against the center of the sigil and watched as my brother was flashed far away. "He won't be gone long," I told Dean. "We have to find Sam now."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, but I know who does. We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith."

"But Lilith is going to break the final seal," he argued, not understanding.

"Lilith _is_ the final seal," I explained, growing impatient in our wasting time. "If she dies, the end begins."

We arrived at a flustered Chuck's house where he tries to comprehend our breaking the rules of the universe. He tells us where Sam is, but says it's not in the story that we go to the convent to stop Sam from killing Lilith. "Yeah," I say. "We're making this up as we go along." I look at Dean who looks at me with an expression that I don't quite understand. His green eyes are open wide, but his brows are creased, while his lips quirk up into an almost smile. Before I can read anything into this look, however there is a crash above us, followed by a bright, white light. "It's the Archangel!" I shout to them. Then, turning to Dean I say, "I'll hold them off. I'll hold them all off. Just go stop Sam." He looks at me through the chaos, face full of fear and excitement. And I look back at him, just studying his face because I know it will be the last time I see it. Then, I nod and send him to his own fight, as I stay back at mine.

The profit annoys me with his frightened shrieks, but I ignore him as well as I can. I hear my brother's voice above me, scolding my misbehavior. He tells me that I was always such a good soldier, and that I had made a huge mistake my choosing humans over my own father. Instead of begging for forgiveness, I shake my head and smile. "I love Father, Raphael ," I say to him. "I _love_ him, and that is why I am giving my life to protect his Earth and his humans. It is worth it to die for what you believe in. I believe in my father's creation. I believe in good prevailing over evil. And I believe in the Winchester boys, my _friends_."

And that's all I remember. I felt Raphael's fury at my defiance. And I felt Jimmy Novak's body rip apart and splatter the profit's house. And then I felt Raphael's fist closing around my grace until the pain was too much and reality became darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

I was dead. And then I wasn't. It was a disturbing, very confusing feeling… One that I would grow used over the next four years. I did not know the particulars on my resurrection, but I had faith that it was God. Even though I had rebelled against Heaven, I had to believe that my father still loved me. He must have brought me back to protect the Winchesters and make sure my brothers and sisters did not use them to carry out the apocalypse. But I would be lying if I did not admit that there was a nagging alternative to who brought me back. I did not like to think of that possibility, because I was _not_ like Lucifer. It couldn't have been my blasphemous brother who gave me back my life. But Lucifer's motives _could_ be the same as my father's. Sam was his vessel, after all, so he would want me to keep the boys safe. I could drive myself crazy worrying over who was the reason I was alive, but I did not have the time. The apocalypse was nigh, and I had to find Sam and Dean.  
They were cornered by my brothers, tortured into Dean saying yes to being Michael's vessel. Sam gasped for air, his face turning purple against the strain of staying alive. And Dean coughed up blood, clutching at his stomach in the most acute pain brought on by stomach cancer.  
Fury bubbled inside of me until it spilled over. Sword in hand, I attacked my brothers. The element of surprise was on my side, so in their hesitation at seeing me alive, I struck one down immediately. I dodged the other's advances and pushed my weight upon him, slicing deliberately in ways that were sure to kill. At last, I got him in the right place and held his head firmly against the wall as I plunged my sword into his neck. I felt his grace burning out beneath my finger tips, until he was dead.  
"How are you?" Zacheriah stammered before I interrupted him.  
"Alive?" I offer, my voice low with my continued anger. "That's a good question. How did these two end up in that aeroplane? Another good question, because the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer don't we?" I taunted, enjoying the look of shock on my big brother's face. "It _should_ scare you. Now put these boys back together. I won't ask twice."  
With a flutter of his wings, the pompous coward took off, leaving me behind with two mended Winchesters. I placed my hands on their chests and ignored their wincing in pain as I carved Enochian symbols into their ribs to make them invisible to all angels. They were grateful to me for saving their lives and proving my loyalty to them once again, but instead of staying close to them like I so longed to do, I left before answering their questions. I had already lied once today, and did not feel strong enough to do it again.  
The next time I saw the Winchesters, I was bringing bad news. I could not heal Bobby Singer's legs, and I felt ashamed for it. But I had rebelled against my family, and therefore was cut off from the powers of Heaven. I could not let this hinder my task at hand, however. We needed to stop Lucifer, so it was crucial that I find my father, who I knew would be able to end it all without hurting anyone.

"God?" Dean asked, the doubt very heavy in his voice.

"Yes," I replied impatiently. "He isn't in Heaven; he must be somewhere."

"Try New Mexico; I hear he's on a tortilla."

Confused, I narrowed my eyes at Dean, for once again, his comments had alluded me. "No, he isn't on any flatbread."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, and I came to the awareness that he had been joking. I jotted down a note to remember to laugh the next time he made this kind of idiotic remark. "Listen Chuckles, if there is a god, he is either dead, and that's the generous theory-"

"He is out there, Dean!"

"Or," he continued, ignoring my faith "he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us."

I felt betrayed. This was my father he was insulting. I knew he did not see it that way, but I did. And even though Dean was my friend, I once again, felt the anger rising within me. He continued his blasphemy, until I could take no more and cut him off. "Enough! This is not a theological issue; it's strategic," I say, trying to keep my voice level. "With God's help, we can win."

"It's a pipe dream, Cas."

My eyes twitched and my breath hitched dangerously in my throat as I stepped towards Dean. "I killed two angels this week," I hissed at him. "Those are my brothers. I'm hunted. I _rebelled_, and did it, all of it, for _you_." Dean's face gave off hints of surprise at my declaration. I had not meant to be so honest, so instead of letting my embarrassment wash over me, I continued, my tone growing even more harsh. "You failed. You and your brother destroyed the _world_, and I lost everything… for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself." Dean and I refused to look away from one another, so we stood with faces so close, just staring into one another's eyes. My heart was still beating quickly from the passion of my vexation, while he looked sorry, but still too proud to admit to it. Finally, Bobby broke us out of our daze, and asked me what I needed. Reluctantly, I slowly slid my eyes away from Dean who took a step back from me. "An amulet," I answered. "It burns hot in God's presence. It will help me find him." I looked to Dean and ordered him to give me the token from around his neck. I was fully aware of the sentimental purposes this item brought him, but I needed it, nonetheless. Hesitantly, he gave it up to me, almost as his way of apologizing for our altercation. With a nod, I left them, and started upon the quest for my father who had been missing my entire life.

I never anticipated the search for God to be an easy one, but when there were so many places he could possibly be, one feels incredibly small and helpless. The best way, I figured was to go to the most beautiful places of his creation and search there. So I did. The Grand Canyon, Mount Everest, Midway Island, but he was nowhere to be found. My spirits were at an all-time low, and I felt utterly alone. Though I was still cross with them, I longed for my family and for Heaven: a place of comfort despite its military style. And at last, I heard a rumor of suspicious activity in Maine. A gas station had been completely leveled by a sort of explosion, killing a hoard of people. And according to the news, a police officer heard deafening sounds which very well could be the voice of an archangel This sparked my interest for the same occurrence took place before Raphael had killed me in the home of the profit, Chuck.

Dean was taken by surprise when I showed up behind him in the bathroom of his hotel room. "Hello, Dean," I greeted him as he turned around to look me in the face. He was so close to me that I could see each individual freckle that blanketed the bridge of his nose. I liked being this close to Dean where I could see every detail of my father's craftsmanship. Plus, Dean gave off such incredible warmth, and his smell was inviting… but my closeness made him uncomfortable, so I stepped back from him, lowering my eyes to the floor. I told him of my plan, but unlike I'd hoped, he was reluctant to help me. He was upset about his brother, I could understand that, but I was not in the mood to coddle to him. I too was under much pressure and missing my invisible family. Together, Dean and I could find Raphael, get the answers we needed, and spend time together, just us two, which I secretly craved. With each other's company, we could forget the siblings who caused us pain. Of course, I said nothing of this over-romanticized plan to Dean.

"So what? I'm Thelma and you're Louise, and we're gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?" He stared at me, waiting for an answer or a reaction, but I just looked back at him, expressionless. I had a feeling that this was another one of his jokes, but I did not want to laugh and be wrong. So instead, I kept quiet, still looking at him. It wasn't until he rolled his eyes and walked passed me that I concluded that it _was_ a joke. I pursed my lips, scolding myself internally for another mistake in Dean's humor.

"I need your help, because you're the only one who'll help me," I admitted, a bit helplessly. "Please."

Thankfully, Dean's expression softened and he agreed to come along to aid me in finding Raphael, but only on one condition: we would _drive_ to Maine. I fixed my countenance to one of indifference, but truthfully, I wanted so badly to smile. Riding 'shotgun' in the Impala with Dean was the best possible pastime for a fallen angel such as myself. I spent the entire drive fighting the happiness that so badly wanted to take over my lips, stealing looks at Dean, and memorizing every song that came onto the radio. This was a moment that, I felt would never be repeated again, so I wanted to savor every tiny detail.

My first undercover mission was rocky, to say the very least. I did not fully understand the point of lying, but Dean was the expert, so I went along with it as best I could… but that was not good enough. He kept looking to me with wide incredulous eyes, as I tried his patience again and again. It was not deliberate, which I wished I could explain to him. I was still learning to be human, which is not as easy as it looks. But despite his frustrations, Dean was kind to me, for the most part. He did not yell at me, though I could see that he probably wanted to. He fixed my crooked tie, which was such a simple, nurturing gesture that it set my heart pounding. When he wasn't rolling his eyes at my ignorance in human affairs, he seemed… at ease. Like our working so closely together was not strange at all, but welcomed and comfortable. It felt like we were actually becoming friends, and even though I sorry for not being better, I was pleased. And I suppose that our meeting with the police officer didn't go all that badly, because we got the information we had come for, and were sent to he hospital Raphael's vessel was being held at.

The vessel was a broken man, hunched over in a chair with his expression vacant and drool dripping into his lap. I was honest with Dean when he asked if this is what he would become. Yes, dean would be even worse than this man, and that was precisely why I needed to make sure that he was never to accept being Michael's vessel. Hell had broken Dean in a way that I shuddered to think of, but being a vessel, I think would damage him permanently. If he said yes, there would probably not be any Dean left, for as strong as he was, he was not strong enough to withstand the fury of my older brother. I would not let Dean Winchester become a shattered memory in the husk of a human body… because what would the world do without him? Who would save the innocent from all of the monsters? Who would watch out for Sam? And what about me? Who would I be without the one who taught me how to feel?

I left Dean to travel to Jerusalem in order to procure holy oil, the key to trapping an angel. Inside the ring of burning oil, my brother would not be able to escape without killing himself. Never in all of my life had I ever dreamed of confining one of my brothers or sisters in such a ring as this, but times had changed, and Raphael and I certainly were not on good terms.

Back at the abandoned house, I explained the basics of my plan to Dean. And when he asked if we would survive this, I told the truth: he would, and I wouldn't. His face dropped, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head. "Well, last night on Earth… what uh… what are your plans?"

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly," I said, looking away from him. And that _was_ the plan. It's not what I wanted to do, but it being so early in our relationship, I did not imagine that Dean would want to spend time with me. I wanted him to tell me everything about himself. His life story, his thoughts and feelings on everything, details about his family and hunting. Sure, I knew most of this, but I wanted to hear _him_ say it all.

"Dude, come on, anything?" he teased. "Booze, women?" Taken aback from this, I glanced at him and quickly looked away. Those things did not sound very appetizing, but I was afraid that he might catch wind of what I really wanted. But he didn't, and led my shyness to my lack of sexual experience. "You have been with a woman before… or an angel, at least?" he asked, sounding mildly surprised, which I couldn't understand. "You're going to tell me that you haven't been up there doing a little cloud seeding?"

His question was preposterous, and I had to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing at him. My voice came out sounding annoyed when I answered, "I've just never had occasion, okay?"

Decidedly, Dean put on his coat and informed me that my virginity was not acceptable to him, so much to my horror, we headed off to a local brothel. Horror is not even the word intense enough for me to use to explain what I was feeling as I sat across from Dean in that dimly lit lair of sin. A thesaurus of frightened, panicked emotions strummed through my body. Mostly naked human women walked everywhere, whispering their seductive promises in men's ears and took their hands and led them through a curtain that hid the lustful truths from our view. Dean chuckled knowingly as he talked to the girl at our table. I could not look at her, so instead I drained my glass of alcohol before Dean let her guide me away from him. _No no no no_ was the only voice in my head. Dean stopped me and leaned his face in closely. He gave me money, and bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing at he look on my face. "Don't make me push you," he laughed.

The woman led me to a room at the end of the hall. There were black sheets on a large bed, and she pushed me down onto it, positioning herself atop me with her legs on either side of my waist. She began loosening my tie, the one that Dean had fixed earlier, and pressing her lips to my jaw and neck. And with her presence so close to mine, I began to see the personal faults that plagued her. "Rachel, I'm sorry," I said, catching her by surprise at using her real name.

She looked down at me, startled. "What did you call me?"

"It's not your fault that your father, Gene ran off," I answered, looking her in the eyes. "It was just because he hated his job at the post office."

The next moments went by in a blur of blonde hair and inanimate objects that were hurled at my head. Confused and a bit afraid, Dean hurried me away from screaming of Rachel and angry men who now pursued us. Outside by the Impala, Dean doubled over laughing. His body shook and tears pooled in his eyes. He leaned against me for support and clutched at his stomach. "It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard," he gasped, smiling broadly at me. I smiled back at him, happiness radiating from my body, and climbed back in the Impala with him.

When we got back to the house, I had the last night on Earth that I had so hoped for. Dean and I sat side by side on a blanket in a vacant room, our backs leaning against the dirty wall. We drank beer and he just talked while I listened so intently, hanging on every word and getting drunk, not off of the alcohol but he soft cadence of his voice. I watched him all the while. Even when he looked back at me, I didn't look away, and he didn't seem to mind. He smiled at me so much that night and told me things I knew he'd never shared with anyone else, not even Sam. At times, he'd even touch me. His shoulder would brush mine and I'd draw in my breath. And then as the night went on and Dean's eyes began to droop, he rested his hand on my leg and smiled. "Thanks, Cas," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "I really needed this." He fell asleep soon after that, so I closed my eyes and replayed the day we had just spent together. I was going to die tomorrow, but I didn't mind because the day I just had made up for it.

Back at St. Paul's Hospital, Dean and I preformed our ritual to summon Raphael to his vessel. We lit the flame and waited… all day we waited, but he never came. Discouraged, we went back to the house to reform our plan. But as soon as we had stepped through the door, there was my brother who had been absent all day. There was Raphael, looking so arrogant and powerful. But Dean was not afraid of him. His sarcasm was thick as he continuously taunted my older brother who just became more and more angry. I was torn between anger at my brother and admiration for Dean. It was about time someone stood up to the brute. And with that, I set the ring of oil that surrounded him on fire, and watched the flames dance in his narrowed eyes as he growled at me. "Where is he?" I asked him.

"God?" I nodded. "Didn't you hear? He's _dead_, Castiel." My stomach dropped, feeling like it had turned to lead. This could not be true."There's no other explanation. He's gone for good."

"You're lying," I argue, my hatred growing stronger.

"Am I?" He sounded so sure. And even when Dean began to test him again, playing with his anger, he still made sense. Dean could see me tense at his side, so he made more jokes. "Is this funny to you? You're living in a Godless universe."

Dean was done with his tricks now. Instead, his voice changed to that of a lecturer. "You think just because God's gone that you can do whatever you want?" Of course he did, Dean. Raphael was an archangel. He was capable of anything, so he fully intended to get his way.

"If God is dead, why have I returned?" I shouted over the storm of my brother's creation that now raged inside the house. "Who brought me back?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe _Lucifer_ raised you?"

"No," I lied quickly.

"Think about it: he needs all of the rebellious angels he can find." Worried by the look of fear creeping over my face, Dean stepped closer to me, protecting me. But in that moment I could not even register this action on an emotional level. My brother voiced my darkest fears, and now they were back, knocking at the door in my mind, unable to be silenced. I knew if I stayed there any longer, I would kill Raphael. Another one of my brother's lives would be on my hands, and I could not have that happen, for Lucifer had killed many of his kin. I did not want to have any more in common with him. "Let's go," I said to Dean, turning to leave.

"Castiel," Raphael called after me. "I'm warning you. Do not leave me here. I _will_ find you."

"Maybe one day," I grant him. "But today, you're my little bitch. " And with a line straight from the Dean Winchester dictionary, we left my brother in a ring of fire, throwing a tantrum in the tempest of his own creation.

Back in the Impala, we drove in silence. There was no conversation, no rock and roll. Just my thoughts and his, mingling in silence, until at lat he said, "Are you okay?" I did not answer him, because I wasn't okay, and he knew it. "I do know a little something about missing fathers," he began. "There were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead… but I knew in my heart that he was still alive. So who cares what some Ninja Turtle says, Cas? What do you believe?"

"I believe he's out there," I said, and I meant it. Dean was right. Raphael was egocentric and wanted our father's job. There was still a chance that God was still alive, somewhere.

"Good. Then go find him." We looked at one another, and even though I was still in pain from my dispute with my brother and worried about the absence of my father, I felt warmth in my heart. I was an angel of the lord, one of the most powerful beings in all of creation, and a human boy was the only thing that could make me happy. I searched through all of the human emotions that I had cataloged, and could not come up with one that fit what I was feeling right then. But there was _one_ that I did not yet understand. Could it be love that I felt for Dean? Right now I had so many other things to find out, so exploring this feeling did not make the list. So I kept quiet.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am. I'm really good."

"Even without your brother?"

He paused in deliberation. "Especially without my brother. I mean, I spend so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I've had more fun with you in the past 24 hours than I've had with Sam in _years_… and you're not that much fun." He gave me a teasing look, so my lips twitched into a quick smile. "I've been so chained to my family, that now that I'm alone… hell, I'm happy."

But I did not stick around to hear more of what he had to say. I was glad that Dean felt happy after all this time of sorrow and hatred for himself. I was glad that I had played a part in making him feel better. But I could not let that conversation lead anywhere further than that. I had to find God. After the job was complete, I could spend more time with Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

Bobby Singer was a great man. In Heaven, he was seen as just another hairless ape of our father's creation, but he was more than that. He was of superior intelligence, loyalty, and bravery. He loved Sam and Dean Winchester like they were his own children, and he gave his life for them time and time again. So I admired him. The search for my own absent father led me to secretly wish that Bobby Singer saw me as a son the same way that he did the Winchester brothers.  
But I was not on his list of favorite people these days. No one was. Bobby was more miserable than usual ever since the failure of his legs… Which he blamed me for. It was my brother who crippled him, so I had to assume responsibility.  
After Dean had told me to continue the search for God, I went to Bobby's house to ask for his help. And just as I suspected, he was wary. "Oh yeah sure, Castiel. It's not like I have every hunter in the world to help, so taking on the search for _God_ will be just fine."  
"I am aware how busy you are, so I apologize for adding another task to your heavy workload, but finding God is crucial to stopping the apocalypse." He rolled his eyes, and took a drink from his glass of whiskey. "You are the most skilled hunter at tracking supernatural behavior. Please, Bobby; I am asking you to lend me your skills. I need you."

Sighing in frustration, Bobby wheeled his hair over to one of his book cases that lined his study and plucked a large, old volume off of the shelf. "Well, only 'cause you buttered me up so nicely," he grumbled. "So what sort of stuff should I be keeping an eye out for?"

"Miracles," I answered plainly. "My father is prone to random acts of goodness: acts that humans cannot explain."

"That's it?"

I nodded. "Despite what you and many others may think, my father is still around, and he loves you. And though it may be hard to see it, he does show himself in small ways every now and then."

"I gotta say, I admire your loyalty to your dad… hell, I hated my own father, so I can't relate, but… it's good on you to… keep on going." He gave me a tight lipped smile that warmed me greatly. He was proud of me. "Well, I'll look out for miracles and pray to you if I find any. Feel free to stop back whenever you need to."

"Thank you, Bobby," I said. And then I left immediately before he could see me smile.

While Bobby Singer worked on finding miracles, I started going to church. All around the world, I visited churches from all of the varying religions, and what I encountered within them was disgusting and laughable. So many liars preached my father's words all wrong and churned out hatred and prejudice instead of love as he had intended. They follow the Bible or another form of it, which, despite most people's beliefs was a mostly fictions story written by various men long long ago. My father was definitely not in any of those so-called _holy_ places.

Visiting these churches left me feeling discouraged, once again, so in those times of daunting helplessness, I'd call Dean. He would laugh at my anger at the religious hypocrites I had encountered and then give me his location so that I could join him, wherever he was. And once I was with him, he'd give me a smile, tell me about his latest hunt or give me news on Sam's wellbeing. They were still working apart. That worried me, because Sam was not safe when he was not by Dean's side. I did not want anything to happen to him, but there was no talking to Dean about pairing up with his brother again. But I could tell that he missed him. So I was there for him instead… a sorry substitute, but we enjoyed ourselves, I think.

One night, Dean and I were having a slight disagreement regarding the Colt. It was, in my opinion the one chance at defeating Lucifer in case we were unable to find my father. Dean was being pessimistic and difficult. I was perverse, as well because I had just spent the day at a Baptist church listening to a rant against homosexuals. Now I was on the side of the road in Swissvale, Pennsylvania and not at all in the mood to argue with Dean Winchester. "Where are you?" I asked. I sighed with relief when he gave me his location, but became frustrated once again when he told me not to come. What was worse was that he hung up on me, leaving me to wait in that bigoted town, on the side of the road until morning.

But when morning came, Dean was not at the motel room. Waiting in his place was Zachariah, looking pleased with himself. "What did you do with him?" I snarled.

"Wow Cas, you've really _fallen_ hard for this one… do you like my choice of words?" he joked.

My eyes narrowed dangerously. "Where is Dean Winchester?"

"Oh relax," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'm just playing a little game with him. You'll get him back in a few days."

"What are you doing to him?" I demanded, my voice rising with my anger.

He laughed, sitting back far in his chair. "Like I'm going to tell you anything. Now, run along, Cassie."

No matter what I did the next two days, I could not find any information on Dean's whereabouts. And because of this, I was worried sick and left making plans of the ways I would torture Zachariah if he had harmed Dean in any way. All I could do, was constantly watch the motel room for signs of Dean's return. And much to my relief, after three days of Dean being gone from the conceivable Earth, he was dropped back into that same motel in Kansas City where Zachariah was waiting for him. As soon as I could, I transported to my side in Swissvale, far away from my brother. Turning around, Dean gave me a smile. "That's pretty nice timing, Cas" he breathed.

"We had an appointment."

Then Dean's expression filled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. It seemed like longing, like love, but I refused to let myself jump to hasty conclusions. Still, that's what I imagine it feels like to be looked in the eyes by someone who loves you. And it felt amazing. My heart raced even faster when he put his hand on my arm and leaned closer to me so say, "Don't ever change." I looked back at him, unable to keep a small smile from my lips, because that meant more than he could ever know to hear him say such a thing. My entire family was disgusted with the way I was. I was disgusted with myself most of the time, and Dean always seemed annoyed by me. Knowing that he didn't want me to alter myself was the greatest compliment I had ever been paid.

After Dean had called Sam and set up a meeting for them tomorrow, the pair of us set off into town to get Dean some food. Over three burgers for him, he told me all about his time spent in 2014. He was thorough in his story, detailing what his future self looked like and how the Croatoan virus had spread everywhere. And when he talked about Sam, his face clouded over with despair. "I just… I can't let that happen to him, Cas. I _can't_."

"I won't let that happen, Dean," I say, looking him in the eyes to seal my promise. "Lucifer will not take Sam because we will defeat him before he gets the chance."

He smiled at me, and swallowed the mouthful of burger that he had in his mouth. "I know we will… Thanks Cas." I nodded and watched him clean up his empty fast food containers. Then he took two beers from the mini fridge and sat down next to me on the sofa, and handed me one of them. "Future you was a mess… geeze, you should have seen yourself."

"A fallen angel is not a pretty sight… I'm sorry you were forced to witness me in that way."

"You were sort of funny… in a depressing sort of way." He looked down and picked at the label on his beer bottle, giving a nervous chuckle before saying, "Future me seemed to like you just fine."

"Well I'm glad for that," I answered, confused.

Shaking his head, he laughed again, and I noticed that his ears were turning red. "Yeah… and Future you was pretty keen on me." I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "They were kind of… well-" he looked up at me, watching him with my head cocked to the side trying to understand and stopped talking abruptly. "Umm, our future selves were kind of… together… like _lovers_…."

He watched me anxiously to see how I would react, but I would not let him see anything. Inside my mind was running through multiple encounters between myself and Dean as my stomach churned and my heart beat rapidly. But outwardly I blinked at him and narrowed by eyebrows. "What?"

"Right?" Dean chuckled, relief prominent in his voice. "We were like full on boyfriends in 2014."  
"But I thought you said that I was engaging in sexual activity with all of the ladies of the camp," I said, trying to understand.  
"You were, and I had women that I slept with, but you and I had an arrangement where that was… _Okay_." He shook his head and rubbed that back of his neck with his hand, shifting closer to be in doing so. "It seems weird, but I don't know, man… We seemed happy." This time when we be looked up, his face was very close to mine. The kind of close I usually got into trouble for. There were all of those beloved freckles that I was so fond of counting. My gaze swooped over them before meeting his eyes. His bright, green irises were stretched wide my eager pupils. I watched him lick his lips, and felt the strange sensation of wanting that to be my tongue swooping over his thick, bottom lip. "Cas," he breathed, his voice gravely in the back of his throat. "I… I uh, I should get some sleep." And the moment was gone… Just like that. He leaned away from me and rubbed his hands on his dark blue jeans.  
"Right," I said, standing up quickly. He stood as well and we stared at one another for another few seconds. We both laughed nervously and looked away. "I hope your meeting with Sam goes well," I said.  
"Thanks, Cas," he answered. And with that, I disappeared, my heart still pounding.


	6. Chapter 6

During our next few encounters, Dean and I were awkward around one another. Instead of dwelling on the charged moment we had shared, we focused on Sam. I was glad to have him back with Dean where I knew he would be taken care of. Lucifer had gotten to him, but he insisted that he would never say yes to him. And we had to keep it that way. As long as my boys continued to stay strong, Zachariah and my other siblings would not get their apocalypse.

Speaking of my siblings, they had been awfully quiet those days, which was odd. No one had been sent to force Dean into saying yes to Michael, but instead of seeing this as a positive thing, I became more worried. I knew what their silence meant. It meant that they were planning something big.

But among the monsters, I was faced with an unexpected family member who I had not seen for many, many years. Gabriel and I had always had a troublesome relationship. He was older than I and an archangel, so I should not really have been on his radar. Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer, for instance did not pay me any attention, but Gabriel did not let me off so easy. He was known throughout Heaven as a trouble maker… and by him I was seen as an easy target. I have always taken things too seriously and focused on my studies and jobs appointed to me. Gabriel, on the other hand, lived to trip me up. He would distract me during my training, impersonating my instructors to make me do ridiculous and embarrassing things, eavesdrop on me while I prayed to our father and then tell everyone else what I'd said. Living with him was tiring, and I must admit, I was rather pleased to see him go. I remember the day: Raphael, Michael, and Gabriel had all of Heaven in uproar. Michael and Raphael were pleading with him to stay, but Gabriel would hear nothing from them. He was tired of running Heaven and wanted to explore. So he left, and I hadn't seen or heard from him since… until he stole the Winchester brothers and trapped them in TV Land.

Sam usually would call me every few days to let me know how him and his brother were doing, and to ask how my search was going. It was around this time that I hadn't heard from him in four days that I began to worry. I went to Bobby's immediately, and with his help, I found out where they had worked their last case. This research took me to Wellington, Ohio at the site of an old, abandoned warehouse. But this place was more than it seemed. I was familiar with perception filters, for we used them all of the time. When Dean was in the Green Room last year, it had been my job to create the filter for him to perceive a beautiful room rather than a shack. And here the same technique was being used. The hard part is getting into it… it would definitely not be easy.

I sat myself down in the centre of the warehouse floor and shut my eyes, reaching out to the current of hallucinogenic energy running through the place. For hours, I sat there until, at last, I was overcome with a weightless sensation that was swiftly overcome by the dead weight of my vessel once more. With heavy legs, I rushed through a dark corridor. the only light source was coming from a crack that resembled a doorway off in the distance. I hurried to it and pushed it open, completely baffled by what I found on the other side. Sam and Dean stood on a stage of a Korean game show wit their feet strapped to a pedestal with a mallet stationed between their legs. "What are you doing here?" I asked them, and received panicked and befuddled expressions as an answer.

"Us? What are you doing here?" Dean returned.

"Looking for you; you've been missing for days," I told them.

Eyes wild, Sam begged, "So get us the hell out of here!"

Though I was still confused, I nodded and stretched my arms out to touch the foreheads in order to transport them back to reality, but before I could, I flashed into weightlessness once more. With a burning in my head, I crashed down upon a white, cement floor. All around me was white; it was so bright that it practically glowed. Wincing against the light, I pulled myself up from the floor and began knocking at the walls. All four were cement with no openings, but that didn't stop me from throwing myself against them with all of my might. Nothing happened, but still I tried; it was all that I could do. Whatever this creature was, it was powerful enough to banish an angel into limbo. The boys were in serious danger, and I was their only chance at survival.

I don't know how much time passed in that white room. It could have been a few seconds or a hundreds of years. I couldn't tell the difference. All i could feel was the bruises flowering all over my body from pounding against the unmoving walls, the wrath that comes from constant failure in everything I try to do, and the most intense worry over what was being done to Dean and Sam. My knuckles bled from rapping them against the walls, my blood stinging their white paint job. And I kept screaming Dean's name even after my voice had given out.

Then, a miracle happened. Just as I had thrown myself head first against the wall, my body became weightless again and I knew I was back. When I resumed human form, I found myself just outside of a 1970s style motel, Without a moment to lose, I flung open the door to the first room, and much to pleasure, Sam and Dean Winchester stood inside, looking unharmed. "I don't have much time," I hurried on saying.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"I got out. Listen to me, something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"What thing?" Dean urged me, his eyes serious. "The Trickster?"

"If it is a trickster," I reply, knowing that my time here would soon come to an end. There was no way that the _thing_ would let me give the boys too much information. And sure enough, just as Sam asked what I meant, I was knocked off of my feet and slammed against the wall behind me. I gasped in pain, and lay crumpled on the floor. And when I looked up, I saw an angel.

"Hi Castiel!" Gabriel greeted me with a wide smile.

My eyes widened as everything began to make sense. I tried to shout to the boys to tell them what was going on, but my brother had a piece of tape over my mouth. And before I could pull it off, I was sent back to my white-walled cell.

I hated my brother. How dare he keep the Winchesters hostage in his world of make-believe. They were not his toys to make dance for his own entertainment. And I was no longer his punching bag. This time I clawed at the walls cursing his name and promising him hell whenever I got out. And I would get out…. I just didn't expect it to be at his hand.

The next time I was brought back, I was sent all of the way through, back into reality. Breathing heavily, I told Dean that I was fine. "Hello Gabriel," I said, my anger prominent in my voice.

"Hey bro," he sneered back. "How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess: awful." I drew in a sharp breath, trying my hardest to keep my temper. How dare he talk about our father when he had abandoned him so long ago. He did not care about our family. He had no idea what I was going through. And I had _no_ time for his foolish games. I stared him down, with eyes fool of abhorrence for everything that he was, enjoying the look of fright on his face when we began to leave him trapped in the holy flames. "You're just gonna leave me here forever?" he called after us.

"No," Dean shouted back, pausing at the door. "We're not, because we don't' screw with people the way you do. And for the record, this isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family!" I had never seen anyone silence Gabriel the way that Dean had at that moment. Not Lucifer, not Michael or Raphael. But Dean was right, and Gabriel knew it. And as the water from the sprinklers doused the flames that held him in place, I looked him in the eyes and saw him rethinking his allegiance. He was not fully with us yet, but I had high hopes that he would be soon.

I thought it best to stay close to the boys after that. So for the next few hunts, I remained near them, but still looking for my father. But my hunt for him was delayed when we received news on the whereabouts of the Colt. I was sent to watch the demon Crowley, and was not pleased with what I found. He was arrogant and clever. Things were definitely _not_ going to be easy with him.

Crowley's house was covered in Enochian sigils, keeping me from coming inside, so I was forced to stay behind with Bobby and Ellen, as Sam, Dean, and Jo retrieved the Colt. Much to our relief the trio came back unharmed and with the weapon we had been so desperate for. What was more was that the demon had given them the location of Lucifer. It all seemed too good to be true, but we celebrated anyhow. Ellen and Jo, two remarkable women, whom I admired a great deal decided to teach me how to drink. I was astonished at how they treated me so normally. They were not afraid of me, nor did they harbor any negative feelings. Jo smiled warmly, looking me in the eyes, and Ellen talked to me in a motherly tone the way she did with all of the others.

That night I felt very human. I drank with the hunters, and watched as they told jokes. Sam tried his best to explain them to me, but even after he did, I laughed at the wrong times. Bobby and Ellen told stories of hunts they'd been on or helped out with. Jo tried to teach me now to dance. I stepped on her toes, but she just laughed and reassured me that I was doing fine. She was lying, but it was kind of her. But all nights end, and I was saddened when everyone started to drift off to sleep. I stayed up, watching over them, my humans.

Sometime around 3:00AM, Dean woke up and sat next to me on the porch swing. The wind was cool as it blew past us. I enjoyed the night, and was glad that Dean was now awake to share it with me. We stayed quiet as the time passed. He was watching me, and that made me happy. "Cas," he said, finally, my voice sounding foreign in the darkness. "Listen, we've only got a few hours left until we all die, so… I figured that I should tell you that you've been a good friend." I looked at him to find his jaw clenched and his green eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "I know I get on you all the time, but you mean a lot to me, and I don't know how I'd make it without your help." I knew how hard it was for Dean to share his feelings, so I savored his honesty.

"Thank you, Dean," I replied with a small smile. I wanted to say so much more, but I did not want to ruin anything. I wanted to tell him that if it weren't for him, I would still be another lost soldier of Heaven. I wanted to tell him that I didn't care how ashamed my family was of me, because when he looked at me like that, it all felt worth it. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, and that I would die a thousand times to keep him safe, but I said nothing. Instead, I carefully moved my hand to cover his. And when he did not object, I turned it over and laced my fingers through his. Still looking me in the eyes, he squeezed my hand and smiled at me. Together, we sat on the porch, hand in hand without saying another word. We watched the night slowly flower into morning, the morning we would kill the devil.


	7. Chapter 7

It was extremely unnatural for that many reapers to gather at one place. The demon was correct: there was great evil in that town. If I knew then what I know now, I would not have left the group to seek out the reason for their gathering. I should have stayed and helped. Maybe if I had, Ellen and Jo Harvel would still be alive. But I didn't save them. My curiosity was too strong, so I wandered into that empty building to come face to face with the angel himself: my older brother, the one to blame for this whole mess, Lucifer.

I'd walked right into a trap. Holy fire surrounded me, now and there was no way out. How could I have been so stupid. This was Lucifer; of course he knew I was coming. "Castiel, right?" he asked. I nodded, feeling so incredibly inferior. "Castiel," he murmured to himself. "I'm told you cam here in an automobile."

"Yes…." I was unsure of his motive for such as question.

"What was that like?"

The small talk caught me off guard, but I figured it best to just go along with it. "Umm… slow, confining," I answered, truthfully.

My brother eyed me thoughtfully. "What a peculiar thing you are." He was right, I was not like any other angel, but I was glad of it. It didn't bother me that he was disgusted with my love for humans, after all, he was deteriorating before my eyes. The skin of his vessel was scarred and peeling away. He looked sickly, like he would not last much longer. He needed Sam Winchester, but that was not going to happen so long as I could help it.

In a heat of passion, I nearly overstepped my boundaries of the circle of holy fire. My brother smirked at me. "You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you."

"Castiel," he started, his tone pleading in a playful way. "i don't understand why you're fighting _me_. Of all the angels." I

"You really have to ask?"

"I rebelled; I was cast out. You rebelled'; you were cast out. Almost all of Heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interest… which in this case just so happen to be mine?"

I hated that he was comparing us. I was not like him. So very carefully, I answered, "I'll die first."

He looked back at me, eyes almost saddened by my answer. "I suppose you will."

Though my brother did not know me, I remember him when he still lived at home. Everyone loved Lucifer. He was charming and strong, intelligent and brave. He was everything that an angel should be. And we all knew that our father loved him most of all. That is why it hurt so much when he fell. The day he disobeyed God, we all felt our father's heart break. I could not understand why, if he loved God so much, why he would rebel like he did. Now was my chance to ask him, but I was afraid of his answer. I was afraid that I would come to understand, be seduced by his unlimited freedom and end up exactly like him. So I stood in my circle of fire, ignoring his questions and remarks to me. He was trying to annoy me, to get me to react. But I would not give him the satisfaction.

Eventually, he left to preform his ritual to raise Death from his cage, and I was left alone with his daughter, Meg. Now, a demon I could most certainly handle. I set my sights on a large pipe hanging from the ceiling, and while we chatted, i unscrewed its bolts. "We're going to Heaven, Clarence!" she laughed, so pleased with her father's work.

"Strange, 'cause I heard a different theory from a demon named Crowley," I challenged her.

Her face fell. "You don't know Crowley."

Smirking, I continued, "He believes that Lucifer is just _using_ demons to achieve an end, and then once he does, he'll destroy you all." I began to twist out the final bolt, my plan at distracting her working just as I'd hoped.

She was upset and squared her shoulders at me, not paying any attention to what was happening above her. "You're wrong. Lucifer is the father of our race, our creator." Her lips tugged into a smile as she prepared to hurt me. "You're dad may be a deadbeat, but mine walks the Earth." And with that last remark, the pipe fell free, knocking her forward, into my arms, just as I'd planned. I pushed my palm against her forehead to extract the demon from the girl, but nothing happened. Meg began to laugh. "You can't gank demons, can you? You're cut of from the home office, and you aint got the juice. So what can you do, you impotent sap?"

Her taunting just drove me on even better. I leaned forward very close to her face. "I can do this," I answered, pushing her over into the flames that confined me. She screamed in pain as the holy fire licked at her vessel. Without giving it a second thought, I stepped on her back and out of my prison to go and save the Winchesters, hoping to God that I wasn't too late. I arrived in the field, just before the ritual was finished. In an instant, I touched the boys foreheads and transported the three of us back to Bobby Singer's house.

There wasn't much talk that night, but a lot of mourning. Ellen and Jo were wonderful women who were greatly missed by all of us. I blamed myself that they did not make it passed the Hell Hounds. If I had not gone after the reapers, I could have held off the beasts so that everyone could have made it out alive. I knew this, and could not bring myself to look at Bobby or the boys. Because of me, their friends were dead. I went back to the porch swing that had brought me so much comfort the previous night, and closed my eyes pretending the wind that blew across my skin was the same that had against Dean and I. But suddenly I was no longer alone. Opening my eyes, I saw that Sam had joined me on the swing. "I'm sorry about your friends," I told him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "They were good hunters and even better people. Ellen had known my dad for a long time, but we never met her until a few years ago. But she became like a mom to us instantly. I can't help but feel like I let her down." He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "Why can't I save anyone, Cas?"

His question caught me by surprise. "You save people all of the time, Sam."

"Do I really? 'Cause it doesn't seem to do any good. I mean, I started the apocalypse, Cas. That's not something that a hero does. I saw how many people Lucifer killed just to get his way. And none of those people would have died if I hadn't released him in the first place."

"It is true that you have made mistakes in the past. So has Dean. So has Bobby. And I have more than any of you. But the present is the time to make up for our previous blunders. I have faith in you, Sam. You and your brother are very special."

Sam nodded and smiled sadly at me. "Dean's in pretty bad shape. You should go talk to him." I stood up and headed for the door but stopped when Sam said, "He likes you, you know. He may not tell you so, but I know him."

With Sam's words still swimming through my mind, I make my room up to Dean's room. I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him. His face is lined in sorrow, lips turned down into a deep frown that rests below tear stained cheeks. There is no fight in his eyes. This is a Dean that no one gets to see. This is not the warrior that so constantly saves the day. After I had raised Dean from Hell, this was so common what I would find him like whenever he was alone. And I never could stand it… especially now that we had grown so close. Slowly, I walked into the room and sat down next to him of the bed. He was startled by my sudden appearance, but seeing that it was me, he settled back down, his shoulders still hunched. Without saying a word, I took his hand in my own, just as I had the previous night. He squeezed my hand and exhaled a shaky breath. "What am I doing, Cas?" he whispered. I kept quiet for there was no answer that would make things better for him. "Everyone who tries to help me just ends up dead… and I can't stand it anymore, man. I just can't." His voice cracked, so he paused, holding tighter onto my hand. "If I keep saying no to your brother, how many more people are going to die in my place? And what if they go after Bobby next? Or Sam? Or you?" He finally looked at me with wet eyes so full of longing. "I can't lose you guys, so what am I doing?"

"I believe in you, Dean." He shook his head and looked downwards, but I drew his eyes back to mine. "This fight is not one that just anyone can take on. It needs someone special, and that is you. I'm sorry about your friends, and I know how hopeless it all seems… but I know that we will win. You prove to me over and over again that you are worth the faith, so yes, I believe in you."

Everything seemed to slow at that moment. My breath didn't seem to come, and neither did his. His eyes bore into my own, but blinked down to study my mouth. My heart made loud thumps in my chest, but each beat seemed to take a lifetime. And then he was leaning into me, but my brain could not work out what that meant until our lips brushed one another's. Dean's mouth had fascinated me for a while up to that point, but nothing could beat the feel of it on my own. His lips where gentle as they pulled at mine that were unpracticed. But I knew what to do, so I kissed him back. I felt his breath in my mouth and felt like I might drown. This was what love felt like, and though I didn't want it to stop, I did not press further when he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he said, quickly, releasing my hand and standing up. "I'm so out of my head right now. That was really… can we just forget that ever happened?"

Now he was finding it difficult to look me in the eyes, so I nodded. "Whatever you want, Dean."

I was confused. In my experience of watching Earth, kissing was a sign of affection, of love. Dean had kissed me, so he should care for me, but then why would he want to pretend it hadn't happened? Was it something I had done? Had I done it wrong? Frustration engulfed me and I hung my head and pulled at my hair. These distractions would not save the world. If I kept letting these human emotions take hold of me, nothing would be accomplished.

The next few months were of no significance. I helped the boys with cases, and Dean and I did not mention our kiss. Things between us were the same as they ever were. I told myself that that was good, but I wished they were different. I wanted to replay that night when were so intimate, but I knew that could and would not happen. So I focused on keeping him and Sam safe. Zachariah continued to pester them, so I was forced to block them from him whilst they were temporarily sent to Heaven.

And when I wasn't watching over the boys, my ongoing search for God continued. I was so determined, and so foolish. I prayed to my father every night, begging for him to just show himself to me. I needed his help so badly. I felt so alone. So helpless. But he didn't come to me. He didn't say a single word or give me any signs. He was as silent as he always was. How could he do this to me? I had always loved him so dearly and obeyed his every word. I defended him against my brothers and against the humans who doubted him. I had not once doubted him in my entire life, and he could not even help me this once.

Alone: such a small word seems unable to embody such a feeling. I was alone in the universe. My brothers and sisters were right, if our father was alive, he did not care enough to help me. That or he was simply dead. I mourned for both of the possibilities. I mourned for my absent father and for the siblings who hunted me for betraying them. And I mourned for the Winchesters. I still believed in them, but at times of such tragedy it was hard to always have faith. They were only human, so they could very well fail. And all of this would be for nothing. I had given everything for Dean, to save him and his brother and his world. But now it all seemed to be crashing down upon me. Without God, we were left to our own devices. I was scared, and I did not know how to deal with that.

My brothers and sisters were always telling me that I had too much heart. They were right. Too much heart _was_ my problem. That was also the problem with the human race. They all care so much. Those days, with my head so full of human emotions, I did the only thing that I could think of. If I was turning into a human, I might as well act like one. So I drank.


	8. Chapter 8

The Winchesters were always stopping at bars, drinking their troubles away, and sleeping with random women. Why should I be any different? My pain was real, so I felt that I had every right to treat it with irresponsibility. Everyone in the bar looked lonely and unapproachable. I did not want to spend time with them, but I told myself that their sorry company would make me feel better. Sitting down at the counter, I noticed a dark-skinned woman with large, green eyes give me a seductive smile. I nodded to her and took my seat, asking the bar tender for a beer. He so graciously handed me one, and I downed it in one gulp. In my experience that far in my life, alcohol had no effect on me. Jo and Ellen had tried to teach me to drink, but it took a lot more than normal for me to feel as much as a buzz. If this drinking away my pain was going to work I would need to get, as Dean says, 'colossally smashed.'

Five beers and seven shots of tequila later, my head began to feel dizzy and my vision blurred. It made me smile. "You sure can drink, honey," the woman said with another smile."

"I've never done this before," I admitted, downing another shot. "Your human rituals confuse me, but I'll try anything."

She giggled and touched my arm. "You're funny. What's your name?"

"Castiel."

"Well hi, Castiel. I'm Antonia." I waved to her and asked her to join me for a shot. She giggled some more and agreed. A few drinks later, I was feeling friendly and liking Antonia very much. She was beautiful and vivacious. I didn't think I'd mind sleeping with her. "Cas, you're so cute! What's a beautiful boy like you doing in a shitty place like this?"

"Well, Antonia my life is a mess. My family wants me dead. My father is gone, probably dead, but I shouldn't care because he never loved me anyway. I'm in love with a man who wants to forget me. The world is ending, there's nothing I can do to stop it. I've failed. And I give up." My long-winded honesty left her blinking at me.

Finally, she replied, saying: "You're gay?"

I laughed. "I don't know… maybe? His name is Dean. You'd like him; most women do. He's brave and strong and broken. And his eyes shine like the lights of Heaven [trust me, I would know]. And I love him, but he doesn't care… or know. But it's okay, because I have alcohol. And you. You're nice, Antonia. I believe we should copulate."

Again she blinked at me in shock. I was aware that I was not using the proper 'pick-up' techniques, but I did not care. Just as I had hoped, I was inebriated, and that left me feeling comfortably arrogant. "S-sure," she stammered, at last. "You mean sex, right?" I laughed and nodded. "Okay," she giggled. "Let's go to my place."

She took my hand and led me out of the bar and to her car. I got in the passenger's seat and scoffed at her excuse for a vehicle. After riding in the Impala for so long, no other car can compare to that wonderful automobile. Further disappointments followed when she insisted upon turning up the volume on the radio, blasting rap music. My head swam with dislike, and I craved Dean's rock songs that I knew by heart. We passes a liquor store on the way to her house, so I asked her to stop so I could get more to drink. Sleeping with her was starting to feel like less and less of a good idea, so I needed more alcohol to convince me otherwise.

By the time we had reached her apartment, I was halfway through the vodka I had purchased, and starting to be comfortable again with the sex I was about to have. She started slow by kissing me, hungrily. Her tongue pet my own and she moaned into my mouth, grinding her body against mine. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so she moved them to feel her breasts. This task cause for much bewilderment, for I had no idea mammary glands were a source of female pleasure, and she did not look happy when I asked her about it. It turned out, that intercourse was not a time for discussion. But that seemed hypocritical to me because she felt the urge to always bring up my father, which I thought very inconsiderate of her because forgetting him was the main reason I was attempting to have sex with her.

Antonia pulled her shirt off over her head and unhooked her bra immediately after. She wanted me to kiss her breasts, so with a shrug, I did as I was told. "Oh God… God yes," she sighed.

"That's not my name," I said, sitting back, and looking her in the eyes.

"What?"

"My name is Castiel," I reminded her. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "God is my father, and as far as I can tell, he isn't here."

The rest of that evening did not go well. She ended up pushing me out of her house, shouting angry words at me all of the while. I was beginning to sense a pattern with the women I tried to have sex with: all of them wanted me dead before anything was accomplished.

I stayed drunk the next four days. The second the alcohol gave signs of wearing off, I would go back to the store to get some more. It felt good being numb. I didn't have to think about anything. Not my family, my father, Dean, or the stupid apocalypse. To be honest, at that point in my life, I did not want to be alive… but I was too much of a coward to kill myself. So instead, I drank and sulked and pretended that nothing was real. And it worked for a little while… until Sam Winchester called me for help.

Sam is my friend, and I care for him greatly. I would give my life to save his, and I like being around him. That being said, however, I am easily annoyed by the sound of his voice. The way that his lips annunciate so much when he says certain vowels and how the sass is obvious when he is fed up; it all makes me cringe. So when I heard that voice on my phone's voicemail, my first instinct was to roll my eyes. I had to listen to the dreaded thing again to actually understand that what he was saying was important. Demon attacks should not be that frequent in a civilian setting, so I drained my last bottle of absinth and popped over to the Winchester's motel room.

"I got your message," I said, tripping over the threshold. "It was long, your message, and I find the sound of your voice grading."

Giving me a quizzical look, Sam asked, "What's wrong with you? Are you… drunk?"

My first instinct was to hide my debauchery, but my denial was followed by my tripping further into the room which spun nauseatingly. "Yes," I muttered.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sam asked, the concern obvious in his voice.

"I found a liquor store," I answered, closing my eyes and slumping against the wall. "And I drank it. Why did you call me?"

Staggering towards him, my legs began to give way again. Sam reached out and steadied me, smiling faintly… at least, I think he was smiling. It was hard to focus on just one Sam, for their were a few floating in front of me. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hand still gripping my coat.

This query annoyed me more than his voice. I was an angel of the lord! Of course I was alright! How dare Sam Winchester, flawed human and starter of the apocalypse question my strength, like he could take care of me, or something. I beckoned him close to me and whispered, "Don't ask stupid questions." Sam's lips tightened and he backed away from me a bit, so I sat down and set to work on figuring out the problem of the week. It turned out to be difficult to follow one train of thought for so long, but still I kept at it, asking Sam constant questions so that I could further understand what we were up against. A few times, he would grow confused, and that would frustrate me, and I would snap at him. But he never was rude to me in return. To add to that, he kept touching my arm whenever the room would spin. It was a very comforting gesture that I appreciated greatly. I felt bad for being angry with him, because he was a good friend to me despite my being troublesome and brash.

Near sunrise, I flipped though an old book, searching for the way to kill our monster as Sam fixed me coffee in the kitchenette. "I am sorry, Sam," I said, carefully. He turned around to face me, his hands on the checkered countertop. "I have not been very kind to you tonight, and I apologize."

"It's okay, Castiel. I mean, we all have bad days… I would know. Some days Dean and I can hardly look at one another. And we feel bad about the things we say, but we're family, and that means that it's okay. So it's okay for you too, Cas."

My heart beat excitedly in my chest, and if I wasn't drunk, I most likely wouldn't ask the following question: "Are you saying I'm part of your family?"

Sam smiled. "If that's okay with you… 'cause _I_ see you as a brother now. We've been through so much shit that I think it's kind of hard not to." My smile broke through , and I thanked him, shyly. "It's probably good that we aren't _real_ brothers, though because that would pose a problem between you and Dean."

"What about me and Dean?" I asked, my stomach dropping.

Rolling his eyes, Sam laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. I know you two are head over heels in love with each other…" He trailed off at my surprised expression. "Don't tell me that _you_ didn't know." I rub the bad of my neck nervously as my head swims. "Wow. It looks like I'm dealing with two idiots" He shook his head incredulously and handed me the coffee he'd made. "Speaking of Dean, I'm going to go look for him. He should have been home hours ago. You can stay here and research more or rest up. I'll be back soon."

While I had the room to myself, I attempted to clear my head. Sam's words repeated themselves to me again and again even when I tried to block them out. Dean and I have always had a profound bond, but that did not mean that we were 'head over heels in love with each other.' I could admit, that for a time I had feelings for Dean that mimicked romance, but that was the old Castiel. The new Castiel did not pine after humans who do not reciprocate feelings, nor did he care that his father had left him without word as his brothers and sisters planned to smite the Earth and him along with it. The new Castiel just had to focus on this false profit, how to kill her, and how to ignore that the text from the book was overlapping itself.

Sam came home without Dean, but we didn't panic, because Dean could take care of himself. And sure enough, two hours later, he walked through the door… with blood on his hands. He assured us it wasn't his blood, relieving Sam and I greatly. The news of the murdered barman, however was not good news. "It's starting," I told Sam.

"What's starting?" Dean snapped at me. "Where the hell have you been?"

"On a bender," I retorted, just as agitated.

Dean's eyebrows raised as he studied me before turning to Sam. "Did he just say _on a bender_?"

"Yeah… he's still pretty smashed," Sam muttered with a nervous grin.

I put my hand up before they could go on. "It is not of import. We need to talk about what's happening here."

"Well, I'm all ears," replied Dean, going to the sink to rinse the blood from his hands. Sam and I set to laying out all of the research we had compiled in his absence. The Whore of Babylon was a dangerous woman, that much was obvious from the way the town was already beginning to act. Her false prophecies would turn the humans against themselves. The Whore needn't so much as lift a finger. She'd just spin her lies and away they'd all go. Humans have always been so hungry for the word of my father… so hungry that they don't check the source to see if it really is from him. "What about the demons attacking the town?"

"They're under her control," I answer.

"And the Enochian exorcism?"

"Fake. It actually means: you breed with the mouth of a goat." I giggle at the joke, and wait for the boys to join me, but they just look at me with vacant faces. "It- it's funnier in Enochian," I explain, noticing my mistake.

I leave soon after our conversation to go to Babylon, where I cut a stake from a cypress tree. Plunging the stick into the Whore's heart is the only thing that can kill her. But it is not that cut and dry, as I explain to the boys. The Whore could only be killed by a true servant of Heaven. Our trio consisted of a murderous ex-Hell civilian, a drunken fallen angel, and an abomination who used to have sexual relations with a demon: the three of us were certainly out of the running. But Dean had an idea of who _could_ help us.

Pastor David Gideon was not comfortable with the task we appointed him with. I kept quiet as the boys worked their magic. They had such a way of convincing people to do things their way. I had a knack for that too, back when I was a soldier of Heaven, but it wasn't artful like the Winchesters. My was was force. There's nothing poetic about that. At least back then I had purpose… unlike now. Now I am lost. I _was_, like I told the pastor, a sorry example of an angel. I'd fallen from so high, and now I was at my lowest point. I was hating myself and hating my father. The alcohol was wearing off, and now I was feeling the weight of all I had repressed.

When Dean took a break from packing up the Impala, I was too depressed to so much as look up. I thanked him for the tylenol, and expected him to walk off, but he stayed. "I've been there," he said quietly, leaning on his car. "I'm a big expert on deadbeat dads… yeah, I get it. I know how you feel."

Hot tears stung at my eyes as I pursed my lips and looked up at him. "How do you manage it?" I asked, my voice coming out just as broken as I felt.

"Well," he said shifting closer to me, "on a good day, you get to kill a whore." He smiled sadly at me, and I just stared back. I could see the green in his eyes even though it was dark, and I knew then that I was lying to myself: I still was in love with Dean Winchester. And when he said things like this to cheer me up, there was no denying it. I was afraid that looking at him would give me away, so I focused on his pant leg, which was nearly touching mine. For some reason that was the most perfect thing in my world at that moment. Though everything else was literally going to Hell, Dean was so close to me, and that shouldn't make things better, but it did.

The plan did not go as we hoped… to say the least. Before Pastor Gideon could stab the Whore in the heart, she chanted some evil incantations, and I doubled over in agony. My internals were on fire and slowly being ripped out through my throat. I groaned on the floor, clenching my fists against my stomach, trying to keep my intestines in place. I was out of commission and unable to keep the boys safe. All I could do was gnash my teeth against the pain and pry to the God who had let this happen for Sam and Dean to succeed.

Tears ran down my face as the torment continued. Just like the time Gabriel had locked me in the white cell, time ran out of control. I could not tell what was up and what was done, if time was passing or standing still. I just knew that I was alive because only the living could feel as much pain as I was enduring. And then suddenly I wasn't. It was like someone had turned off a tap. The flames were extinguished, and my stomach unclenched. Fatigue hit me like an ocean wave that knocked the air out of my lungs. Dean's arms were around me, dragging me out of the building. If I wasn't so tired, I would have kissed him right there in front of everyone. He had done it again. He and his brother had saved us all.

Back at the motel room, Dean laid me down on his bed and smoothed my hair from my forehead. "How are you doing, Cas?" he asked, his voice low so that Sam and Pastor Gideon could't hear across the room.

"Thank you for saving me, Dean," I croaked.

Dean cupped my cheek in his warm hand and nodded. "I'm sorry about everything, man. Everything. And I wish I could do something to make it okay, but-" I shook my head and cut him off. I didn't want him to say something now, something lovely that would make me smile. Because if he said that right now, I would know he said it because he pities me. And he might mean it, but things were such a mess that it wouldn't be right. Dean understood and pressed his forehead against mine and squeezed his eyes shut. I closed my eyes, as well and wound my fingers into his hair. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled away from me and went back to his brother and the pastor. My body was paralyzed with enervation, but still, I smiled in the direction of my boys. My father was gone. My brothers and sisters hated me. But I had a new brother in Sam Winchester. And Dean loved me, just as I loved him… even if he didn't know it yet. And the three of us were going to save the world.


	9. Chapter 9

The look in Dean's eyes when he apologized to me, it was all wrong, and I should have known. I should have let him speak, let him open his mind and tell me every single dark thing that was on his mind. What I did was hush him, because I didn't want him to hurt _me_. But Dean was the one I should have been focusing on. Dean was the one who was in pain. I was so preoccupied with my own troubles that I didn't stop to think of what he was going through. Instead, I turned off my thoughts for a night so that I wouldn't have to think about him or the rest of the world. And because of my selfishness, Dean was not there in the morning.

Sam was silent for most of the car ride to Richford, Wisconsin, which is where Dean was. When Sam wasn't silent, he was swearing under his breath. I was doing the same inside of my head. Anger shook me like a heavy wind in the trees. We had come so far, and now he was just going to give it all up. There was a pulse of fury that kept a steady rhythm to all of my disappointment in Dean. All I could do when we got to the motel room was nod tersely to Same as he gave me my orders. He went in to talk to Dean and see if he would come quietly. I followed him in, invisible to them both, waiting for the moment I was needed: the moment Dean would refuse to come on his own.

I stood in the corner of the room watching the brothers I so loved arguing with one another. Sam was now the one who sounded like the leader, the responsible one. Dean was so broken. He had given up everything and all of us with it. My hands balled into fists at my sides. How could he do this to me? It's like he didn't even care at all. Without a word, I tapped him on the forehead, to put him out of consciousness for the trip back to Bobby's.

As Dean fought Bobby and Sam, I still said nothing. My thoughts were still too turbulent to be conformed into eloquent words. I tried to focus on the conversation in front of me, but that was made all the harder by the voices of my brothers and sisters shouting in my mind. Wincing, I clutched at my head, honing in on one solitary voice instead of them all. Something was happening. Something important. I left immediately for the location the angels spoke of. The forest clearing was full of strange feelings. There was much power beating through the barren branches. I walked to where the power was strongest, and looking down, I saw the moist earth pulsing like a heart beat. Before I could pull out whatever was under the ground however, I became aware that I was not alone. My brother lunged at me, his sword bared, but I deflected it with my own weapon. I struck a blow, but he pushed me sideways and made another attack at me from the left. We locked our arms together with swords pointing at one another's exposed abdomens. And it could have all been over for me then, but a surge of anger gave me strength enough to twist out of his reach and send my blade into his chest. No sooner did his grace burn out that I was confronted with one of my sisters, in the vessel of a male. I was ready for her, and determined to kill her quickly. My sword seemed to do its own fighting as I sliced into her stomach, weakening her. Then, with a sweep of my leg, I tripped her onto the ground, and plunged my blade deep into her heart. Unblinking, I watched her grace drain from her and I felt all of its power release into me. This is what I had become for Dean Winchester: a murderer of my own kin.

I put my siblings' weapons in my pockets, and hid my own up my sleeve as I always keep it. Then, I reached down into the throbbing mud and grasped the hand that eagerly clung to mine. The boy I pulled from the ground could be no older than 20 years old. He fainted in my arms, so I went directly back to Bobby and the Winchesters, who looked looked incredulously at me and my new companion. It was angels who pulled Adam, Sam and Dean's younger brother, out of Heaven. They wanted him very badly for something, and because of that, they could definitely not have him. I marked his ribs with the same Enochian symbols that I gave Same and Dean to keep him hidden from my siblings. He woke up with a start, not the least bit surprised at Sam and Dean's news of their kinship. All he wanted to know was the whereabouts of Zachariah.

After getting cleaned up, Adam is sat down and asked to tell his story. I listened carefully, and it was just as I feared: Adam was the new Michael sword. "But that's insane," Dean floundered.

"Not necessarily," I spoke up, finally opening my mouth.

Dean turned to face me, looking me in the eye for the first time since the night I'd quieted him. "How do you mean?" he asked.

"Maybe they're moving on from you, Dean," I say my voice cold and my eyes accusing.

"Well that doesn't make sense."

"He _is_ John Winchester's bloodline, and Sam's brother. It's not perfect, but it's possible."

"Why would they do this?" Sam asked, crossing his arms in frustration.

"Maybe they're desperate," I offered, mimicking Sam's actions and crossing my own arms across my chest. I looked to Dean, unable to help myself and continued, saying, "Or maybe, they _wrongly_ assumed that Dean would be brave enough to withstand them."

Dean looked back at me quickly, his eyes flashing angrily. "Alright, you know what, blow me, Cas."

We stared fiercely at one another, both of our eyes narrowed. Sam waved away our words and turned the attention back to Adam. Dean looked away from me, his body ridged with indignation. I pulled my thoughts away from Dean and tried to, once again pay attention to the problem of the youngest brother. He was determined to be Michael's vessel, but Sam was not having any of that. He begged him to just trust us in that we would find an alternate way at stopping Lucifer. Adam was not convinced by Sam's line about family, and Dean was not being helpful. But Sam was clever, as always, and Adam agreed to give us just a bit of time.

Now that Adam was taken care of, Sam decided it was best to put him in the panic room for safe keeping. If he was in there, we would not need to watch him continuously to make sure he wasn't sneaking out to betray him. He went on his own, this time, not needing my assistance to cooperate. But the look he gave me on his way passed chilled me. It wasn't but a few days ago that he looked at me with something like love in his eyes, but now there was nothing but anger. I returned him the look and went to the porch for some air. It was no use to close my eyes and think back to happier days, inhaling the air that wiped around me. Nothing could sooth my ill temper. All I could do was help Sam and Bobby watch the boys and figure out our alternate method of stopping the devil. And during that time, I could _not_ lose myself in my rage against Dean.

Keeping myself calm was not at all an easy undertaking, especially since Dean seemed determined to break me. Whenever he got the chance, he'd make a dry comment about me. Over our two years I'd grown accustomed to his teasing, but now his sexual jokes made my skin crawl. He knew then how I felt for him and that it would hurt me all the more to turn my feelings for him into something degrading. Sam would just shoot me a warning look and send me away. Instead, I watched over the younger brother, Adam. The boy slept, so my job was the simple matter of watching over him.

Time passed slowly, and Bobby grew more and more anxious. Finally, Sam came upstairs from trying to reason with Dean. His mouth was pulled down into a tight frown, and his posture mirrored a defeated soldier. Inhaling a sharp breath, I made my decision to talk to Dean myself. It was unfair for me to let Sam handle this load on his own. I would just have to suppress the worst of my anger and talk to Dean with maturity. There was a crash from behind the door, so I hurried to make sure everything was alright. Dean did not answer when I called his name, nor could I see him when I looked through the hatch. Cautiously, I opened the door and stepped inside. Finding the table overturned, my heart beat nervously, until my name was called from the far corner. No sooner had I turned to look upon the man I so loved than did I feel myself being ripped apart in five different ways as I was banished to a far corner of the Earth.

When everything stopped searing in the painful light of my grace, I found myself in Bucharest, Romania. I did not care who heard me as I screamed in fury. I tore at my hair and beat my hands against the ground. I shouted blasphemous slurs and hatred for Heaven. I damned Dean Winchester to Hell for eternity. I hope that I would be the one to send him there. To look him in the eyes and know that I was his ruin. For he had betrayed me when I had given him everything. I had loved him more than my brothers and sisters. I had fallen from my home for his cause, and he was giving up. I hoped for his sake that I would not find whiff of his scent, because I would show him the true wrath of an angel when provoked.


	10. Chapter 10

For nearly an hour, I sat on the cold ground with my eyes closed, listening for any sign on Dean Winchester's whereabouts. There were many angelic whispers expressing disfavor for him, but none of those helped me. It wasn't until a human shouted prayers to the heavens that my eyes snapped open. The next second, I was standing alongside the bearded man and Dean. "You pray too loud," I growl, touching the man's forehead to get him out of the way. Dean did not have time to so much as breath my name before I had grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him into the narrow alley behind us.

I threw Dean against the brick walls of one of the buildings enclosing us. He staggered, heavy on his feet as I screamed at him. "I rebelled for this!?" Pulling him back upright, I slammed him back again and punched him in the face. And again, making my anger make it's point against his already bruising flesh. Grabbing onto his lapels again, I drew his face close to mine so that his gasping breaths licked at my face. "So that you could surrender to them?" He groaned something that might have been the start of an answer, but I was not listening. Instead, I hurled him against the opposite wall and pulled back so that I could ram my fists into his stomach again and again, my teeth gnashing furiously with each blow.

"Cas… please," he panted. His begging did not make me stop, but egged me on, so I threw him again against the other wall.

"I gave everything for you!" I snarled at him, pulling our faces closer again. "And this is what you give to me!" His body was giving way under the grip I had on his jacket, but that did not stop me from punching him more and then kicking him backwards through a chain linked fence. He fell, sputtering on the blood in his mouth from where my fists forced his teeth into his lips and clutching at his broken ribs. I advanced upon him, ready to finish the job and show him just how much I could hurt him. He had hurt me ten times more than the damage I had already done to him, after all.

Glancing at my clenched fist, Dean swallowed hard. "Do it," he groaned. Then he looked up into my eyes, pleading with me. "Just do it!"

I looked down at him, my lips quivering in my now-subsiding anger. We held one another's gaze, blue and green, still fighting but without words or actions. Our relationship was born for tragedy, and we never should have been. And we never even were. Not really. And now here he was begging for me to end him. And I could. But those green eyes, so full of misery and torment, so ready for death at the hand of someone who loves him. I just couldn't give it to him. Because yes I did hate him in this moment, but hate is just a vicious form of love. I touched his head, and he fell unconscious, his body limp at my feet.

There was important work to get immediately back to at Bobby's, but I could not bring myself to leave just then. All of my fight had gone out of me so quickly, so my vessel felt drained of everything. I had no more to give, because I had taken it all out of Dean Winchester. I really had given him everything now. Heavily, I sunk to the ground, kneeling next to Dean's unconscious body. I cradled his head in my lap and just sat for a few minutes, stroking his hair, dampened from the light rain that fell upon us in the dark night. I ran my fingers over the contours of his face, I had them all memorized by sight, but now I had them by touch. It seemed only fair for me to revel in this small luxury at the end of it all. The angels cheered in my head; for they had Adam in their possession. They would have their Michael with Adam or with Dean, because we _would_ go to rescue him. I could see the future: the sacrifice of myself for Dean to walk straight into the enemy's arms. This sacrifice would surely kill me, so I didn't feel that the time I took for myself to just sit with Dean was wasted. It was my last request to have one last peaceful time with the man who had ruined me.

When Dean and I got back to Bobby's I wasted acted quickly once more. Sam and Bobby were in a panic over the loss of Adam, but I took all of their concerns in with a few somber nods and told them what we'd do. We would go to save him, because I knew where they had taken him. Nervous, but relieved, Sam began making arrangements for out trip to Van Nuys, California. In the meantime, I cleaned up Dean's wounds that I had inflicted upon him. And after Sam and I had talked it through, I went out to the porch to sit quietly as Sam talked to Dean about the rescue mission we were allowing him to accompany us on.

In a matter of minutes, we were saying goodbye to Bobby who had us a curt nod and wished us the best of luck. I looked at him fondly and thanked him for helping me look for my father when no one else would. "I'm sorry that didn't work out, Cas," he told me. "And I want to thank you for looking out for my boys." Before I could say anything back and make the moment more sentimental than he was comfortable with, he said, "Okay, now we're wasting too much time. You boys should get going."

We touched back down a block away from the warehouse where the angels were holding Adam. As we walked, I ignored Dean's disbelief that this is where 'the beautiful room' was located. I was not about to explain perception filters to him. That was not what I wanted our last conversation to be. I wanted our last conversation to be him pleading for forgiveness at my feet, telling me he was wrong and that he loved me. And then we'd kiss and it would be a beautiful and tragic end to our story. But real life is not a romance, ours more not so than any others.

Our actual last conversation was worse than the one about perception filters, but I was still hurt at his failure. "Tell me again why you don't just grab Adam and shazam the hell out of there," Sam asked as we reached the door.

"Because there are five angels in there," I answered.

"So? You're fast," Dean offered.

Taking off my tie, I waved away his comment. "They're faster. I'll clear them out; you two grab the boy." The plan was ordered to Sam, because I did not trust myself to look at Dean. "This is our only chance."

"Wait," Dean projected, grabbing my arm. I looked down at it and starred. This was where we started, but now the roles were reversed. His grip loosened, and he let me go. "You're going to take on five angels?"

"Yes." My answer was simple, and finally I looked him in the eyes.

"Well isn't that suicide?"

I squared my shoulders and narrowed my eyes. "Maybe it is, but then I won't have to watch you fail." He flinched, blinking at the sting of my words. "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't have the same faith in you that Sam does." My words sunk in and I watched the emotion working to stay hidden behind the soldier's eyes. Not long ago I had told him that he was special. I had told him that I believed in him above all else, for he had been there even when my father wasn't. And now here I was taking it all back. I just couldn't help but break him a little more, adding another chapter to our tragedy.

Finally, I looked away from Dean and dug in my pocket for the pen knife I had taken from Bobby's house. "What the hell are you going to do with that?" Sam asked.

"I cannot defeat the angels with my sword alone. Greater measures need to be taken." Sam looked at me, starting to understand what I wanted him to do. "You need to carve the banishing sigil into my chest, Sam."

"No." He stood taller and jammed his hands in his pockets.

"It's the only way to get rid of them for sure," I insisted.

"You'll be banished too, Cas! And you'll be weakened. Dean's right: this is suicide."

I stepped closer to him looked up into his face. "Your little brother is in there, Sam. Do you want to see him safe?"

"Of course, but-"

"So _do_ it. My part is over in this battle. After this, I will have given everything for you and your brother. Let me help you one last time."

Sam's face softened and he nodded, taking the knife from me. "Fine. Thanks, Cas… and I'm sorry."

With my back against the warehouse wall, I unbutton my shirt and bare my chest for Sam to start cutting. He hesitates, but I simply nod and he set to work. Sam was quick in his work, but that didn't make the pain any less. I gritted my teeth against it, not daring to make a noise that could give us away. I claw at the wall as Sam closes the circle carved into my chest. And then, I feel a warm hand take one of my own as it spasms through the pain. I tear open my eyes to see the sweet, harrowed face of Dean. "I've got you, Cas," he said, softly into my ear. "I've got you. It's almost done." My heart swells for him and I press my forehead against his in thanks and apology for the things I'd said.

When Sam is finished, the pain subsides enough for me to do my shirt up once more. I nod to the boys and assure them that all is well. I shake Sam's hand. He had been a brother to me when all of my family had turned against me. And then I turn to Dean. We shared one of our long looks that are worth all of the words in the world, and I touched his arm, right where I'd gripped him in hell. "Goodbye, Dean."

I entered the warehouse, looking all around me but seeing none of my brothers or sisters. They were there; I knew it for sure. I would just need to stay on my guard for whenever they attacked. The room where they were keeping Adam was not far off. I walked to it at a brisk pace, and just as I suspected, one of my brothers lurched out of the shadows before I could reach the door. He was taken by surprise much more than I because I was ready for him. With a quick maneuver, I brought my own sword down into his left thigh. He screamed as his graced seeped out from his open wound. I bunched the front of his shirt in my fist and forced him onto his back. Then, quickly, I pulled my blade out of his leg and instead drove it into his heart. With a shout, his grace burned out, and I was satisfied that I now had one less family member to defeat.

The rest would soon be here to finish me off, so I crossed to the middle of the room to wait for them. One by one, they came, baring arms against me, closing me within their circle, just as I'd planned. Each one of them wore battle faces, their hatred in their eyes burning rapidly for me. I cocked my head, my lips smirking slightly in arrogance and dropped my bloodstained sword on the ground. "What are you waiting for?" I taunted. "Come on."

Always so ready to follow orders, they charged me, their blades eager to absorb my blood. But they were never to reach me, because at the moment they were within reach of me, I ripped open my shirt and slammed my hand into the centre of the sigil carved into my flesh. There was a blinding light and my siblings and I were sent screaming into oblivion.

I have died before. It was an extremely unpleasant feeling that I did not want to relive ever again, but I was sure that I would. I was sure I would relive it when I blasted myself and my four siblings to random corners of the Earth… and I did. My vessel was ripped apart and my thoughts were scattered far from me. My grace fizzled and burst until it was a tiny flame unable to withstand being lit anymore. But then I was fully alight again. I was alive. But I couldn't see why or how. Consciousness didn't allow me enough time to even perceive where I was. The last thing I felt before passing out was the pound of cool rain against my burning skin.


	11. Chapter 11

The only pain that could match what I felt when I had finally awoken from my regeneration was having my grace sliced out of me. My entire body was humming with such an intense ache that I couldn't help but audibly moan. With effort, I coaxed my heavy eyelids into flickering open, only to squeeze them shut again because the light was unbearablly bright. "Oh my god I can't believe it!" The woman's voice was shrill and caused me to wince dramatically. I watched as the nurse checked the monitors I was hooked up to. Her face was riddled with confusion and excitement as she noted my miraculous recovery. Immediately, she called for the doctors who began doing tests on me. They poked and they prodded, asking many questions, none that I could answer.

They told me that I was found on a fishing boat, far out in the water, off the coast of Louisiana. The fisherman were terrified by my unexplainable sudden appearance, and the state I was in did nothing to calm them. I was told that I was covered in blood and unconscious. Those kind men had me taken to a hospital as soon as possible. There was no doubt that they wanted me, the nightmare from nowhere off of their boat. When I reached the hospital, there was nothing really that they could do for me. I was exhibiting life signs, but I was pronounced brain dead. My vessel, Jimmy Novak was, of course brain dead; that's the signs they were reading. I was the only thing keeping him alive, but my grace was not yet at full capacity to make him function once again. Now that I was awake, I was healthy, aside from a few fractured bones in my chest and left leg, scattered bruises, minor scrapes, and a head ache that hurt worse and worse every time they flashed that ridiculous light in my eye. But the doctors were wrong; I was not perfectly healthy. I was thirsty and in pain with an itch on my ankle that wouldn't go away no matter how often I scratched at it. I was human.

After the doctors and nurses had finally quit with all of their tests, I was able to use the phone to call Dean. The moment he heard my voice, he was urgent with finding out how and where I was. I could hear Sam in the background wondering the same thing. despite the pain I was in and the disappointment in myself, I couldn't help but smile inwardly, because the Winchesters were happy I was alive. In as few words as possible, I explained to Dean my situation, and I could hear by his voice that he was worried for me. They needed my help with defeating Pestilence and taking his ring, but there was no way for me to get there without using a manmade form of transport. Dean assured me that Bobby would wire me money, so that I could come as soon as possible, but I wouldn't let our conversation end without saying I was sorry."You said no to Michael… I owe you and apology."

"Cas, it's okay," he assured me.

But there were so many things that I wanted to say to him, for the last time we spoke, we had not been on good terms. But now, he was so far away, on the end of a telephone line and his brother and father-figure were most likely listening in. So I tossed away my affectionate apology for something more formal. "You are not the burt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone as I waited for his response. Finally, he returned with a simple, "Thank you… I appreciate that."

"You're welcome," I said, happy that we had finished our quarrel. I hung up my phone and reached down to scratch my ankle. There was some time before Bobby worked out my money situation, so I did something totally outside of myself: I slept.

Bobby called me, directing me on how to get to the money he had given me. "The boys are leaving for Davenport tomorrow around noon time. I figure if you leave soon, you can make it there about the same time as them. I bought you a bus ticket leaving New Orleans at 11:00AM. Can you make it there?"

"Yes. I will be there… and thank you, Bobby."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll pay me bad somehow… with like, my life, or something. Listen, I didn't tell the boys about your going to them."

"Why?"

There was the squeak of wheels, as I assumed Bobby checked on the boys location. "They need to stay focused on this, and if Dean knows that you're weak and on a bus, out of your element, his head won't fully be in the game. I know that you'll be okay, but Dean's got a soft spot for you that makes him nervous when you aren't in top shape. So do me a favor, prove me right, and get to Dean without complications… alright?"

I agreed, shocked and a bit embarrassed. After I got off of the phone, I removed my IVs from my arm and reached for my clothes from the bedside chair. Before the nurse taking care of me could come to stop me, I made my way, limping out of the hospital, where I hailed a cab to take me to the bus station.

My experience with human transportation had been limited to cars. And though I was very fond of the Impala, I still found that automobiles were confining and slow, unrealistic for someone of my power. But I didn't have any powers, so I was forced to ride for 30 hours by bus. I will spare details of that experience because besides being extremely unpleasant, it was also incredibly uneventful. The people sat too close to me, insisting upon conversation. The stops we made were to places with sticky floors and crackling speakers. The time went by so slowly, and all that I could think of, besides the mosquito bite on my ankle [that had now swollen to the size of a penny] was the fact that Dean was worrying about me. This shouldn't have comforted me, but it did.

Finally I reached Davenport, Iowa, but later than I knew I should be. The retirement home was strewn with dead bodies, lying in pools of their own spoil. My heart raced in fear that I was too late; that I would finally walk into the right room to find Pestilence standing over Sam and Dean's broken bodies that had no life left in them. When I did walk into the right room, I saw just that, but much to my relief, the boys were still hanging on. Dean called out my name, surprised that I had come to save the day after all. But before I could even get a sentence out, I was doubled over with intense stomach pain, coughing blood onto the floor. Body shaking with spasms of another building retch, I looked up into the face of the horseman, whose face was bent so close to me. "And occupied vessel but powerless," he chuckled, so please with my weakened state. "There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?"

Anger mixed with pain in my stomach. I was an angel of the lord, a protector of god's children, yet I was sputtering on the ground like a sick dog. This was not all that I was capable of, not when my friend's lives were on the line. I saw the demon knife on the ground in front of me, so with a lurch, I snatched it up and charged Pestilence. "Maybe just a speck!" I hissed at him, seizing his hand and cutting brutally into his ring finger. The demon who accompanied him was on top of me in a second. We fell to the floor as she thrashed at me with her hands, hungry for my blood. She would not get any from me, however because I drove the knife I still clutched into her stomach and gutted her where she lay atop me.

The ride back to Sioux Falls was spent in good-natured conversation. Though I told them my bus ride was boring, they for some reason found it hilarious that I had ridden a Greyhound at all. They laughed as I explained my discomfort, which I didn't understand, but I was just pleased to see them smiling. We had completed a big part of the puzzle that night, and there was just cause for celebration. The worst was yet to come, so we might as well enjoy each other's company while we were all still alive.

All three of us where exhausted, so it was agreed all around that we would stay the night in a motel rather than continue the remaining three hours in the car back to Bobby's house. Sam and Dean lent me money to book a room of my own. It felt strange, having a bedroom to myself. Never in my life had I ever had need for such a thing, but I did then. My body ached all over and felt grimy with sweat. I figured out that I was in desperate need of a shower, along with some pain medication. It took a while for me to become used to the showering, but once I had understood the full mechanics of the situation, I found that I very much liked the sensation of warm water pouring over the taunt muscles of my back. I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, then I got out, wrapped a towel around my waist, just as I had seen Sam and Dean do, and walked out to where my bed was.

I stopped, surprised to find Dean sitting on my bed, picking at a frayed string on my tie. "Dean?"

He looked up and quickly looked away. "Sorry… I umm… I wanted to talk, but you can change first," he stammered.

"No, that's alright."

"No, Cas," he said, standing up and handing me my clothes. "Change first."

Once I was fully clothed, I sat down on my bed across from where Dean sat in a wooden chair at a small table. "What would you like to talk about?" I asked.

He rubbed his chin with his hand, the way he does when he's nervous about something. "I wanted to apologize for letting you down."

"You didn't let me down, Dean; you said no to Michael."

"But I was _going_ to say yes. I was going to give up on everything that we worked so hard to achieve." He paused to lick his lips and regain his thoughts, as I watched him closely, examining every moment of this exquisite moment. "I mean, you fell, Cas! You fell for me, and I was going to throw it all away." For some reason he looked quickly down at his hands, as if embarrassed by something that he had said. "You should have killed me in that alleyway."

I cocked my head to the side and leaned closer to him. "I could never kill you, Dean. That night I had every intention of taking my wrath out on you, but I would not let it go that far. You had disappointed me, and I was angry… but when someone is led astray for a while, you don't just abandon all hope. You taught me that."

Dean's eyes filled with emotion that I was afraid to name, and he looked at me, his body hardly moving to so much as breath. "So you _did_ still believe in me?"

"I always did… it was just hard to see right then."

He swallowed hard and nodded, his hands bawling into fists in his lap, looking up at me with a question in the lines of his face. Moving slowly, he got up from his chair and took a step over to stand directly in front of me. Then, he stooped down and brushed his fingers into the hair at the back of my neck. His breath was hot on my mouth as his lips lingered teasingly close to mine. It was me who bridged the gap this time. I pulled him down closer to me, clutching tightly at his back, holding him. We kissed apologies into each other's mouths, as well as forgiveness.

Dean did not go back to his and Sam's room that night. Instead, he stayed with me, our limbs entangled in the sheets of my bed, loving one another in desperation and passion before the end. I watched him with wide eyes as he touched me gently, like I was some sort of precious thing. And I touched him just the same, communicating my feelings for him in tender kisses to the scarred skin of his upper arm where I left my mark on him in our first meeting. Eventually, he dropped off into sleep, still in my arms. I knew I would be claimed by sleep soon, but not before I took the time to count his freckles, once again, and savor the knowledge that Dean was happy to lay in my arms all night, letting me count those beautiful spots. He trusted me enough to show me his vulnerability. He loved me enough to let me love him. Ever since Dean had entered my life, I had faced such terrible troubles, and they were not over yet. But with his head on my chest, with his steady breath grazing my bare skin, I found the power to turn off my fears for the future and just join him in sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

All good things must come to an end, and arriving at Bobby's the next morning put us all back in perspective. Sam and Dean filled him in on the events of acquiring the ring, but they were not enthusiastic in their story telling. Pestilence's last words to us were weighing heavily on all of our minds. He had told us we were too late, which obviously led us to believe that the wheels on the devil's plan were already turning. "Please tell us you have actual good news," Dean said to Bobby, as Sam and I turned our ears to hear what he was going to say in return.

Taking a deep breath, Bobby informed us, "Chicago's about to get wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium that sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die."

"I don't understand your definition of good news," I admitted. Much to my further confusion, Dean lifted his head out of his arms, and though his back was to me, I could could tell he was rolling his eyes at me in exasperation.

Before I could ask where I'd gone wrong, Bobby cleared it all up for me. "Well… Death, the horseman, he's gonna be there, and if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back-"

"You make is sound so easy," Dean said dryly.

"Hell I'm just trying to put a spin on it," Bobby argued.

Ignoring Dean's bad attitude, Sam asked, "Bobby, how did you put all of this together?"

At Sam's question, Bobby's body grew rigid and he refused to look any of us in the eye for very long. "I had… y'know… help."

"Don't be so modest," chimed in a new voice across the room from me. The demon, Crowley poured himself a glass of whisky and grinned arrogantly at us. "I barely helped at all."

The entrance of the hell-scum dampened the mood of the day even further, especially because he came baring news of a deal he had made with Bobby. Just like the boys, I was disappointed and worried over the selling of Bobby Singer's soul. Bobby was a good man, and to have his fate in the hands of a demon was not something I wanted for someone that I cared for and swore to protect. While Sam bit back his anger, glaring dangerously at his fists clasped in his lap, Dean stood at his full height, inches away from the king of the crossroads. But though Crowley was a cretin of hell, he was not backing down. He would not release Bobby's soul until the Winchesters finished what they'd started. I had to admit, it was a wise play on his part, because, of course we were all bent upon killing him. Still, we all loathed him for it, and kicked ourselves for letting him onto our team, even if he was helping us with things we ourselves were incapable of.

As the day wore on, we became aware of a further mission we needed to go on: Nivius Pharmaceuticals was shipping out the Croatoan virus in the form of the Swine Flu vaccine. It was the perfect plan to jumpstart the disease, because it would reach so many people at once. Crowley was right with his prediction of the disease reaching maximum capacity by the end of the week. So it was decided, Sam, Bobby, and I would go to to stop the shipment of the virus whilst Dean and Crowley went to Chicago to smite Death. Of course, I was not pleased to be separated from Dean in such a deadly mission. I wanted to be where he was, to keep him safe, but he insisted that I go with Sam and Bobby. "They need an extra set of hands in case things get hairy. Besides, with Bobby stuck in that chair, Sammy will need your help more than I will." He hesitated and closed the door of the room we were alone in. Then, he walked over and stood in front of me, a crease denting the skin between his eyes as he looked at me sadly. "I'm going to be battling Death, Cas; that's a dirty job, and it's not going to be pretty. I don't want you in the line of fire."

"And you think I want _you_ there?" I tested him.

His lips quirked up into a smile. "Man, just give up; I'm not backing down. We've both got our fights, and this time we've got to face them apart." I refused to share his smiles for worry was too etched in my emotions. "Come on, Cas," he urged, taking my hands. "We both might win." It pleased me to see Dean with hope, because those days he had been without it most of the time. And even if he was only putting on a brave face for my benefit, I didn't care. I loved him all the more for it. We had a while before it was time to go, so we spent that time together, playing our new rules as lovers.

Once out of the comfort of Dean's embrace, reality hit me that we could all die tomorrow. I didn't so much mind that I would die; my friends' lives were much more important. I could keep Bobby and Sam as safe as I could, but what good was I, really? I was basically human now. I was next to worthless. "What's your problem?" Bobby grumbled as I sulked near the van.

"This is what they mean by the eleventh hour, right?" I asked.

"Pretty much."

"Well," I continued. "It's the eleventh hour, and I am useless. All I have is this," I said, raising the ridiculous gun in my hand. "What am I even supposed to do with this?"

"Point it and shoot," Bobby replied, his voice obviously annoyed.

"What I used to be-"

"Are you really gonna bitch? To me?" I felt immediately sorry, and looked at him with remorse in my face. "Quit pining for the varsity years, and load the damn truck." He threw his bag at me, that I fumbled with for a moment as he wheeled himself away.

Soon it was time to go, so the five of us stood between the cars, wishing each other luck. My eyes kept darting to Dean as I tried to inhale steady breaths, but my nerves were partially settled when Crowley pulled out Death's very own sickle. "How did you get that?" I asked.

"Uh, hello," Crowley sing-singed, "I'm king of the crossroads." And the 'king' had had enough of our _humanly_ reminiscing; it was time to say our final goodbyes and part our separate ways, but not before that hellish creature preformed a miracle that put me to shame. Carefully, Bobby rose from his chair, his legs suddenly back in working order after months of being useless. Surprise, mingled with subtle admiration shone in his eyes as he looked at the demon. "Alright, this is getting maudlin; can we go?" Crowley asked impatiently.

We said our goodbyes then. Dean hugged Sam and Bobby but not me. Instead, he touched my shoulder and we shared a look that expressed all possible affections. And then we were on the road. I quietly in the backseat while Bobby and Sam argued over the new plan of Sam saying yes to Lucifer. Such a conversation sparked my interest, because it was a much better idea than anyone had yet to come up with. "You and Dean have a habit of exceeding my expectations," I admitted. "He resisted Michael; maybe _you_ can resist Lucifer… but there are things that you will need to know." Sam raised his eyebrows for me to continue, so I continued. "Michael has found another vessel. It's your brother, Adam. You must have considered it."

"Yeah," Sam said, his voice low in his throat. "We were trying not to."

The three of us were quiet for a moment, for we knew that no matter what happened, at least one Winchester would die in this fight. "Sam," I said finally, breaking the silence. "If you say yes to Lucifer and then fail, this fight _will_ happen, and the collateral… it will be immense." Sam's jaw tightened with stress at my words, and I felt sorry for being the cause of it. But these were things he needed to consider before making his ultimate decision. I was just being a good friend. "And then there's the demon blood."

"What? What are you talking about?" Sam asked in panic.

"To take in Lucifer would be more than you've ever drunk. It strengthens the vessel.

"And how is that _not_ the worst plan you've ever heard?" Bobby grumbled, rolling his eyes. I caught on that it was a rhetorical question that Bobby had posed. Truthfully, it was an extremely dangerous plan. My brother was strong beyond belief, but so was Sam Winchester. I had seen him do things that I didn't think possible for a simple human to do. He saved countless lives every day of his life since early childhood. Even when he was led astray by forces of evil, he always found the right path again. He constantly fought to be good no matter how much it hurt him. And that was exactly why I believed in him so much.

No sooner had we parked our van outside of the Nivius loading docks, did our plan fail. A truck was already about to leave the port, so we needed to act now. Bobby and Sam made their way stealthily over to the side of the building, poised to save the workers and kill demons, while I stopped the truck at the gate. As soon as the man reached his arm out of the truck to swipe his card, I grabbed him. He pulled away desperately, but I was quick to hit him with the butt end of my gun until he was successfully unconscious. Next, I disabled the gate system by force, but before I could shut it properly again, a group of about ten workers were running at me. Their faces were clear; they were human, and they were terribly afraid. "Go home!" I ordered them. "Go home, and stay there. Everything is being taken care of." I waited by the gate and shared these commands with the others who ran up to me in tears. But in time there seemed to be no more coming. I left my post and hurried to the warehouse. There were bodies laying everywhere, bleeding and broken. So far there was no sign of Sam and Bobby, and that comforted me. As long as they weren't lifeless corpses on the floor, I was glad.

As I journeyed farther back into the warehouse, I heard shouting. Picking up my pace, I came face to face with an intense situation: a man, clearly crazed with the Croatoan virus was on top of Sam with his hands around his neck and Bobby was all out of ammunition. I acted purely on instinct, doing just as Bobby said to do: I pointed and shot. The man gave one last yelp before falling off of Sam who was now gasping for breath. "Actually, these things _can_ be useful," I admitted, looking curiously at the weapon in my hands.

They both looked at me, incredulously. "Can we commit our act of domestic terrorism yet?" Bobby hissed. "Let's go."

I helped Sam up, who was still rubbing at his throat, and we followed Bobby back to the front of the warehouse. One by one, we unloaded every truck's stock of the virus and piled them back in the storage unit. And when we had them all together, we poured the gasoline, lit our matches, and ran like hell before we got caught in the blast.

We were halfway back to Bobby's house when we finally got the much anticipated phone call from Dean. Sam, Bobby, and I wore the biggest smiles as we listened via speakerphone to Dean's story of how Death had just _given_ him the ring. Bobby and Sam were so excited that things were coming together; they talked over one another and over Dean, already making plans for stopping Lucifer, what our celebration meal was going to be, and what film to watch while we ate it. I stayed quiet, happiness buzzing though my vessel as I watched and listened to my friends. They were all so brave, all so strong. I was incredibly proud of them and so honored to be a part of their family. "Is Cas there?" I heard Dean ask through the phone.

"I'm here, Dean," I said, breaking out of my daze.

"We made it, buddy. I told you we would."


	13. Chapter 13

Our night of celebration filled me with warm feelings. I did not eat their food, but I watched fondly as the boys had a 'who can eat the most pizza' eating contest. And I smiled broadly when Sam had to run to the bathroom to be sick after eating too much and Bobby pronounced him King Idjit. And afterwards I sat very close to Dean on the sofa while watching his favorite film, The Wrath of Kahn. He poked fun at me when I professed skepticism at the movie's factual significance and sought out my hand that sat on the sofa between us. Hidden from the other two, I gingerly laced my fingers through his and smiled down at the simple pleasure of having Dean so intimately.

It was a late night of drinking and joking, but eventually their heads began to nod. "I'll come back in the morning," I said as Dean's eyes began to droop.

"Don't even think about it, angel," he murmured with a smirk. "Come up to the bedroom in five minutes." I nodded, and Dean got up, stretched, and said goodnight to a half-conscious Bobby and Sam before going up to his bedroom. Sitting on the sofa, I kept perfectly still, counting away the exact 300 seconds until I could go to Dean. No sooner had I appeared in the doorway was I pulled into the room by my coat's lapels with the door slammed behind me. Dean immediately stripped me of my trench coat and tugged me forward into his lips, by ways of my tie. "Now's time for our own celebration, don't you think?" he asked between teasing bites to my already swollen lips. As an answer, I pushed him back onto the bed, and with a smile, I lay down atop him.

"I've got to let him do it, Cas." I had not realized Dean was awake until he spoke so softly, his voice hardly above a whisper. He lay on his side, with his back fit snug against my chest. I dragged my left hand soothingly along his naked hip and listened as he exhaled a shaky breath. Turning towards me, I say the torment in his eyes, so I pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. "I'm afraid to lose him. He's my brother; it's my _job_ to look out for him… but I know I'm gotta let him do this."

Dean did not have to elaborate; I knew what he meant. His fears of Sam saying yes to Lucifer were perfectly understandable. My brother was more powerful than anything they had faced in the past. And in Dean's eyes, Sam was a flawed little brother, capable of bouts of bravery but still ultimately run by his emotions. It pained me to watch Dean so fearful for the missions ahead of us. He knew as well as I that no matter what happened, in Sam's saying yes to Lucifer, Sam _would_ die. I was watching three years ago when Sam was taken from him. So driven out of his head with grief, Dean had sold his soul to a demon in exchange for his brother's life. Then, it did not matter so much to me what these boys did; I had yet to know them. They were not yet my friends… my family. But laying my hand upon Dean's sacrificed soul in hell, it made me lose sense of the perfect soldier of Heaven that I had always been. Because the man who was now in my arms loved his brother so deeply, I had given up who I had been for the thousands of years of being alive. It was Dean's love for Sam that led me to him. It was Dean's love for Sam that caused me to care so deeply for the both of them.

I let Sam and Dean have their talk alone. All the while, I sat on the bed, sheets still mussed from mine and Dean's lovemaking mere hours before. But despite the state of the bed and the smell of sex still lingering in the room, everything had changed. I could feel it. Everything was back to business as usual: There were demons to kill. The devil to be found. Hell to open. And the world to save. Our list of things to do was everything but simple, and there were great chances that none of us would survive it. So I sat on the bed and replayed the previous evening. I had memorized every joke, every expression on my friend's faces. I looked back upon the small nod, coupled with a small smile that Bobby had dealt me when he'd caught sight of Dean and I holding hands during the film. He approved of me to love and take care of the boy he thought a son, and that meant more than I could express. I remembered the pat on the back I received from Sam when he told me how good I'd done on our job at the Nivius loading docks. And I recalled each numbingly perfect touch Dean caressed me with as he murmured ambrosial words into my ear. After the completion of this job, I knew there would be no more happy nights spent as a family… even if we survived. Everything was going to change. Already I was nostalgic for a past still present.

A few hours later I helped Sam and Dean gut two demons and drain them of their blood. Sam stood in a corner with his eyes closed and a hand covering his nose and mouth as Dean and I bottled the filth. I screwed on the cap of the final jug and Dean looked over to Sam, an aggrieved look etched into the lines of his face. "Alright, Sammy we're finished. You sure you're okay?"

Sam nodded, lips tight. "Yeah. I just wanted to be safe… don't want to risk 'hulking out' before we get to Lucifer." He tried to make his voice easy going, but it was hard to miss the edge to his attempt at humor.

The drive to Detroit was filled with tense silence. And after three hours of it, I decided to give the boys privacy and pretend to sleep. I knew they didn't exactly believe my act, but still they used it as an opportunity to talk to one another. "Sam, I got a bad feeling about this."

"Well, you'd be nuts to have a good feeling about it," Sam teased.

"You know what I mean," Dean pressed, his voice full of seriousness. "Detroit. He always said he'd jump your bones in Detroit: here we are. Maybe this is him rolling out the red carpet. Maybe he knows something that we don't."

"Dean, I'm sure he knows a buttload that we don't… but you got to hope he doesn't know about the rings." Dean nodded, and it was quiet once again. I could still feel Sam on the verge of speech, however. "Hey, while we're on the subject, there's something I've got to talk to you about," Sam added with a nervous breath. "If this thing goes our way, and I 'Triple Lindy' into that box, you know I'm not coming back." I didn't need to have my eyes open to know the look of Dean's face. And I longed to reach out for him. To take his hand. To help him through this. But he needed this time with his brother, so I continued to feign sleep.

"Yeah, I'm aware."

"So you've got to promise me something."

"Okay. Yeah, anything."

Sam took a breath and said, "You've got to promise not to try and bring me back."

"What?" Dean asked, incredulous. "No, I didn't sign up for that! Your Hell is going to make my tour look like Graceland. You want me to just sit by and do nothing?

Frustrated, Sam attempted to reason with his brother. "Once the cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean; it's too risky."

"No… as if I'm just going to _let_ you rot in there."

"Yeah, you are!" Sam fought. "You don't have a choice."

"You can't ask me to do this." I knew it was taking everything in Dean's power not to break. He _needed_ Sam.

"I'm sorry, Dean; you _have_ to."

After a pause Dean asked, "So what am I supposed to do?"

"You go find Lisa." While Dean scoffed, I forced myself to remain calm, despite the warning lights going off behind my vessel's eyelids. "You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you have barbecues… go to football games. You go live some normal, apple pie life, Dean." But Dean did not answer. I squeezed my eyes shut, so desperate to watch what he was doing. I begged him silently to deny Sam's wishes. The only thing worse than Dean losing Sam was me losing them both. And I know that is incredibly selfish of me, but what can you expect from a fallen angel? "Promise me!" Dean never did answer. The subject was not further discussed. We drove the rest of the way in silence, though it was nothing but shouting in all three of our minds.

All signs pointed to Dean being right about my brother's presence in Detroit. There were demons everywhere, and I could _feel_ him. Sam's face fell and his jaw tightened as he said goodbye Bobby. As they hugged, I stole a look at Dean. He was staring down into the trunk of the car, his posture and face of one defeated. Seeing him like this, well if I had a heart of my own, it would be broken into pieces.

Sam turned to me and extended his hand. "You take care of these guys, okay?" he asked.

"That's not possible," I said, apologizing to him with my countenance.

"Then humor me," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

Noticing my mistake, I admonished myself. "Oh, I'm supposed to lie… uh, sure! They'll be fine!" I exclaimed, putting on a fake smile.

"Stop stop… stop talking," Sam pleaded. Once again, I apologized, and he walked over to Dean at the back of the Impala.

While Sam drank the gallons of demon blood needed to withstand Lucifer, I watched Dean watch the ground at his feet. I watched his shoulders move slightly with every shaky breath. I watched his hands tighten into fists as his thoughts swirled him his head. I watched his jaw clench to keep the tears away. But I did not go to him. Because he had a lot to figure out right now. A lot to decide. And I did not want to confuse him or make it any harder for him. So I just watched him. And in my mind, I repeated over and over, hoping he felt it: _I love you. I am here for you. I love you. I am here for you._

Dean followed a very self assured Sam into the building full of demons and Satan himself. Bobby and I waited outside, holding our breath and praying to my father that everything was going well. There was no movement in the windows, so we had no way of knowing what was going on. It took everything in the both of us not to go running in to help. But that could ruin everything, so we held our ground… until finally Dean walked out of the building alone, his face full anger. "What happened?" Bobby asked, frantically. "Where's Sam?"

"What happened!?" Dean roared. "What I _knew_ would happen, that's what! Sammy's gone. Lucifer's wearing him like a glove."

Panic ruled me and I forced myself not to start apologizing outright. "Did he try to resist?" Bobby pressed, taking steps towards Dean who put his arms up to keep him at bay.

Tears of hate filled his eyes, but he wiped them away as soon as they appeared. "The son of a bitch was too much for him, Bobby! Sam's gone." His voice cracked, and he wiped away more hot tears. "He's gone, Bobby. He's gone." Dean continued to repeat himself, even after he buried his face in Bobby's shoulder. They clung tightly to one another, mourning the loss of their loved one, mourning their defeat… all the while, I stood helplessly off to the side, just watching. Helpless. Hopeless. And out of place.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a considerable amount of time before Dean recovered. And even then, it wasn't really a recovery. He let Bobby hold him until he was so disgusted with himself that he tore away. He sat alone in the front seat of the Impala with his head pressed firmly against the steering wheel. I watched through the windscreen as sobs racked his body and his shoulders heaved as he screamed words of hate aimed towards himself. But finally it stopped. His crying quieted, and he grew very still. Slowly, he raised his arm to wipe it across his face, getting rid of the evidence of his emotional break down. And after a few shaky breaths, Dean climbed out of the car and walked past Bobby and I, into town.

We followed him, but I kept my distance. By his gait, I could see that Dean was ready for a fight and looking to pick one with anyone who crossed him. I was an easy target for his anger. And I would not blame him for wanting to take his fury out on me. But I was not in the mood to take his pains. I myself had just lost someone very close to me. And now I was losing Dean too. My spirits were drained. So instead of walking by his side, prepared to bleed for the man I loved, I slunk behind him like a coward.

We stopped at a store front advertising televisions. The news blared from their screens, raving about violent storms across the globe. It was starting. Both of my brothers had their vessels. It was only a matter of time before the end was here. And there was nothing that we could do. Dean was not satisfied with my answers of helplessness. His voice grew more and more rough as I fell further and further into feeling sorry. I looked away from him, holding back the tears that were welling in the eyes of my human form. "I'm sorry, Dean… this is over."

"You listen to me, you junk less sissy." He bit out his words so that I felt them all. "We are _not_ giving up! Bobby-" he turned to the man who slumped beside him, but received no response from the broken man. "Bobby?" He narrowed his eyes, pleading for the man to fight beside him; to tell me I was wrong.

"There… was never much hope to begin with," Bobby mumbled, his shoulders slumping forward even more. "I don't know what else to do."

Anger bristled through Dean as he dropped his gaze to the ground. I stared at him with eyes full of longing. I wanted so badly to take him in my arms and make up beautiful lies to make it all better. But I knew that would solve nothing. And I knew he wouldn't believe me. And I knew that our story was not a romantic one. I was an angel, awkward to human forms of comfort. And Dean was a man whose world was literally falling apart. All we could do was look into one another's eyes and plead for simpler days.

Dean brushed past me forcefully, his brows knit in determination. He walked down the pavement in the opposite direction. When I made to follow him, Bobby stopped me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Just give him a minute, Cas. He's… he's having a rough time." The man beside me squeezed my arm and looked at me with dull, sorrow filled eyes. "Hell, this sure was a stupid idea," he grumbled as we fell into step together. "I knew it wouldn't work but… Sam… he was such a great kid… I though _maybe_… just once…." I kept silent as Bobby Singer confided in me. I could not imagine his pain at losing Sam, the boy he saw as his very own son. "Dean'll take a while to heal from this one." He took a deep, shaky breath and stopped, turning to me. I looked at him quizzically. "You're gonna to be there for him, right? I don't expect you to marry the boy or anything… hell, if you want to, knock yourself out; what you two do is your business. Just, I gotta know you're not just gonna walk off from this. Don't you dare leave him… not even if he tells you to."

"Dean means _everything_ to me," I said, making sure I was wearing my most sincere expression. "Even if he does not want me, I will always be watching over him."

Bobby nodded, his lips tight. Then he rubbed his neck and rolled his eyes, once again continuing to walk. "I never thought my life would end up a supernatural soap opera, and that I'd be playing the part of the father of a gay kid who's in love with a damn angel." He laughed briefly and I cracked a small smile. "But that being said, I'm glad he's got you."

When we got back to the Impala, Dean looked ready to go. "You're gonna do something stupid," Bobby said. "You've got that look."

"I'm gonna go talk to Sam," Dean stated.

Shaking his head sadly, Bobby replied, "You just don't give up."

"It's Sam!"

"You couldn't reach him here; you're certainly not going to be able to on the battlefield," I told him, my eyes pleading with him to be reasonable.

He turned to me with a cold expression, his brows knit together in anger. "Well if we've already lost, I guess I've got nothing to lose right?"

I looked down at my feet, sorry for what I was about to say. In efforts of not making him any more mad, I lowered my voice to seem unthreatening. "I just want you to understand that the only thing you're going to see out there is Michael killing your brother."

Once again, Dean looked close to tears as he stared at me. "Well then I ain't gonna let him die alone." He shook his head at me as if to bat away the silent apologies I was sending his way. With a final look to Bobby, he got in the car and started the engine, driving away and leaving Bobby and I staring at each other and at a loss.

Bobby and I got into his truck and followed after Dean. "We have to go with him, Bobby," I said in the silence. "If he insists upon being with Sam, I too will be stubborn and insist upon being with him."

After clearing his throat Bobby said, "I know, you idjit; that's why I'm going after him." I felt my vessel's cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he handed me his mobile phone. "Call your boyfriend and tell him to pull over so that we can talk about our plan."

I did as I was ordered, but it took Bobby reclaiming his phone and shouting into the speaker to get Dean to pull his car over on the side of the road. "What? So you guys are suddenly in?" Dean asked, hardly believing us.

Joining the others outside of the cars, I kept myself off to the distance to let them work out an understanding. "We still don't think it's the best idea, but!" Bobby said, trying to get his attention back when Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. "But, you're right: Sam shouldn't be alone through this. You should be there for him, and uh… we should be there for you."

Dean thrust his fists in his jacket pockets. "Thank you. I appreciate that." He glanced up at me cautiously, and I forced myself to step forward.

"Also, I have an idea on how to _possibly_ stop the fight from happening. It's not full-proof, and most likely will do more harm than good, but…." The other two stared at me, anxious to hear my plan. This plan of mine, it was going to get me killed. But I didn't care. So far I had given everything for Dean. And he had showed me that the rules and destiny were ours to control. Free will meant that _we_ made our own rules. And my rule change was going to kill me. But it was worth it, because it was for Dean.

I rode with him to Lawrence, Kansas. The radio was playing Dean's usual classic rock mix, so we sat quietly listening to the familiarity of the music. He kept his eyes on the road as I kept my eyes on him. I knew he was aware of my staring, but he did not object. So away I studied. Every tiny line at the corner of his eyes, every glorious freckle. The plump dip to his lips. And the dent of his nose. The way his hair fell over his forehead in that one place and how it curled perfectly into the nape of his neck. My eyes wandered along the curve of his jaw and his adam's apple jumped when he swallowed. I remembered all too well dragging my lips across his skin, my tongue tasting Dean's beauty. "I'm sorry for all of this, Dean."

"I know, Cas." He pushed a stream of air out of his lips and nodded. "I know."

The day the world would end was normal-looking. Human's always anticipated dark clouds and raging winds… but those would come later, during the fight between my brothers. But the sky was clear when we arrived at the old cemetery. Dean pulled over to let me out, but just as I closed the door, he called me back. "Cas! I uhh… thanks for everything. Things are probably gonna get a bit rough, so I just wanted to say that… And… whatever we were… it umm… it was good. And I'm gonna miss it."

I looked at him sadly and nodded. There was nothing I could say, so I backed away and let the brave man that I loved drive away to face good and evil. In return, I walked with heavy emotions to my post to wait until I was needed. As I walked, I heard one of Dean's favorite songs blasting from the Impala's speakers, and I couldn't help but smile. Oh Dean. He certainly had a way about him.

Bobby and I waited in the brush, hidden from the view of the three men at war. Dean stuck true to the plan, only addressing Sam and Adam, refusing to acknowledge the monsters who had taken his brothers from him. And sooner than I'd anticipated, Michael grew impatient with Dean. He started towards him, so I emerged from my hiding spot. "Hey! Assbutt!" I called at him, racking my brain and using the first impolite name that I could come up with. Confused, my older brother turned towards me, just as I threw a flaming bottle of holy oil at him. The container exploded on contact with him and he screamed in agony, the flames licking him into ash.

"Assbutt?" Dean teased as soon as the flames disappeared with Michael.

"He'll be back," I panted. "And upset. But you've got your five minutes."

"Castiel," Lucifer bit at me in Sam Winchester's voice. "Did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?" This was it. I could see the wrath building in my brother's eyes. Pathetically, I shook my head and managed to foolishly deny the actions we all just witnessed. "No one dicks with Michael, but me." I was afforded one last look at Dean before my brother snapped his fingers and my life was ended. This time when I died it was the most violent, worse than when Raphael ripped me apart with his hands. Lucifer wasted no time. He just decimated me without hesitation, shattering me all over the field.

The next thing I remember was gasping for breath in the same cemetery in Lawrence. Dean and the others were not in sight, but I could feel their presence close by. I could also feel my grace burning so brightly inside of Jimmy Novak. I was an angel again, stronger than ever. I went to Dean, slumped over and bloody in the field where I had died. He was so beautiful and broken, just like when I'd first laid eyes on him in Hell. "Cas, you're alive?" he asked, swollen eyes widening painfully in disbelief.

"Better than that," I said softly with a smile. Gently, I touched his head, sending my grace to cleanse his body of all ailments. Before I could stop myself, I realized that in doing so, I'd removed my handprint from his shoulder. Such an action should not have bothered me as much as it did, but I could not deny it. That mark, to me made Dean mine. And now it was gone.

"Cas are you God?" he asked, staring at me, hopefully.

"That's a nice compliment," I smiled. "But no. Although, I do believe he brought me back, new and improved." I walked over to the lifeless body of Bobby Singer and touched his forehead, giving him back his existence. We stood together at the Impala and listened as Dean told us the whole story of what had happened. How Sam had won after all. Good and Evil were done for. A Winchester was victorious. Team Free Will had come out on top… for once.

There was no sticking around in that cemetery any longer. Dean wanted to get away as soon as possible. I did not blame him. I sat in the passenger's seat of the Impala as he drove back to Bobby's. "What're you gonna do now?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Return to Heaven, I suppose."

"Heaven?" he asked, incredulously.

"With Michael in the cage, I'm sure it's total anarchy up there," I explained.

Dean's voice sounded bitter. "So what? You're the new sherif in town?"

A smile played on my lips despite of myself. "I like that, yeah."

"Wow." Dean shook his head. "God gives you a nice, new shiny set of wings, and suddenly you're his bitch again."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't know what God wants. I don't even know if he'll return. It just… it just seems like the right thing to do." I didn't tell him that I wanted to stay with him. That no matter how good it felt to have my grace pumping though me, that I'd trade it all to just lay in bed with him in my arms for an eternity.

"Well, if you do see him, tell him that I'm coming for him next," Dean snarled. I looked over at him and met his eye. I knew that he was serious. He had just lost his brother, which meant that he had lost everything.

"You're angry."

"That's an understatement."

"He helped," I said, trying to be reasonable. "Maybe more than we realize."

"That's easy for you to say!" he argued. "He brought you back. But what about Sam? What about me, huh? Where's my grand prize? All i got was my brother in a hole!"

As much as I sympathized for Dean's loss, I could not stand the way he blasphemed my father. "You got what you asked for, Dean: no Paradise, no Hell, just more of the same." I shrugged, holding his gaze, anticipating a punch to my jaw that never came. "I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have: peace or freedom?" I did not stick around for Dean to answer my query. I could no longer stand to see the pained look on his face. But I was not leaving him; not really. If Dean had wanted me to stay, I would without question. But he did not want me there. Still, I would keep my word and watch over him. I would always watch over him. I had been there his entire life and was not about to stop now. For now he was safe. Hurting, but safe. So I journeyed back home to Heaven.

I had missed it so much. There are so many pleasant places to go. As an angel, I can walk throughout the paradise of any of our members. My personal favorite is the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in the 70s. The grass is so green in this Heaven. The sky so blue. The man is happy with simplicity, as am I. Smiling, I turn around to see my brothers and sisters happy to see me, greeting me with wonder and eagerness. I am pleased, for I have so much to teach them.


	15. Chapter 15

But my brothers and sisters… they didn't understand. They heard my words, but they did not know how to put them into action. Their entire lives were spent working for our father. Everything they did was for him. They did not question his orders or his love or his wrath. They were blind to emotion and to _actual_ freedom. I had been too, once upon a time. For so many long years I lived in peaceful ignorance to all that the human world had to offer. But then I raised Dean Winchester from perdition, and it was like waking up.

So I was persistent. I wanted my siblings to wake up too. Because I wanted them to feel all that I now could. But no matter what I preached to them or had them watch, they could not bring themselves to truly feel the same as I had. I began to feel discouraged, which was a feeling that was not welcome to me. I had just helped stop the apocalypse; failure was not an option. In order to cheer myself up, I went to visit Dean back on Earth. This visit did not have the desired effect I had been hoping for, for he was in the arms of another.

Lisa was a good woman… but that did not stop me from wanted to smite her on the spot. Dean Winchester was mine. How dare she hold him at night, whispering soothing words into his ear as the nightmares claimed him. How dare she look at him with such devotion. How dare she try to put him back together when she had no idea just how broken he really was. Silly woman. She could not do what I could. My jealousy was overwhelming. And it was very foolish. Because I knew, deep down that she deserved to have Dean in her life. Dean had chosen her, after all. Not me. He chose to have her take care of him. To love him. He could have chosen me; he knew I would never turn him down. But he did not want me.

That was too much of a stab to the grace for me to handle, so instead I watched him with Lisa and thought up terrible scenarios in which she would die a painful death. Or I would visit Dean somewhere I could be alone with him: in his dreams. They were not all nightmares, and some even were about me. I watched them all but did not reveal myself. Dean never did like to in his head like this. But I missed him.

Then one night, my curiosity was struck. Dean was dreaming about the 4th of July, 1996. Him and Sam were in a vacant field setting off fireworks. The boys laughed as the colorful sparks lit up the sky. A thirteen year old Sam raised his arms above his head as he stood below the exploding flowers and smiled gratefully back at his older brother. I stood next to Dean and could see the longing in his eyes as he watched his brother dance and whoop with joy. He marveled at this time of irresponsibility that he had not seen for so very long. Unable to help myself, I made myself known, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. My sudden presence startled him, and his eyes widened as he looked at me in confusion and disbelief. "Cas?"

"Hello Dean," I said, unable to keep the smile off of my face.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned. "I mean, are… are you real? Are you here?"

"No," I lied. "This is just a dream."

Dean nodded and looked back to Sam. "Our dad was on a hunting trip in California. Sammy was 13… you know, the age where they start to cause trouble." He laughed dryly. "Well Sammy put up a fuss; he didn't want to hunt all summer. He wanted to do normal kid stuff like go to amusement parks and camp and bob for apples… I don't know. Just do shit he heard kids at school talk about. Well, dad got pissed off. He never understood Sammy. And neither did I, really. But dad ended up going alone. He left me in charge of him for a few weeks, which was nothing new." Dean paused and watched as Sam lit another load of fireworks. "But umm… I gave the kid what he wanted. We went to the arcade one day and stayed there until it closed. The poor bastard working there had to threaten us with calling the police to get us away from the ski ball game. And we went to Wild Waves Theme Park three days in a row, just because he wanted to. And tonight, we drove out here to set off our own fireworks. Those were the best three weeks of my life. Even if I ran out of money halfway through and had to suck off a few guys to be able to pay for everything." Pain was etched in the lines of Dean's face as he told me his story. And I was glad that I had lied to him about this being real, because he probably wouldn't be able to be this honest about his past. "Sammy got a chance to be a normal little kid, just like he wanted so much. And I got to just hang out with my brother without all of my responsibility looming over me. We both were just kids, having a laugh and raising some harmless hell. And then dad came back, and it was over. But still we had three weeks of bliss. And it was all worth it."

I knew that Dean was finished by the way that his voice tapered off at the end of his sentence. It was painful to watch Dean so nostalgic for a past so riddled with imperfections. His brother had always been his whole life. Now there was no Sam for him to watch out for. No Sam to worry about. No Sam for him to care for. And not only that, but the knowledge of where his brother was enough to drive him crazy. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I had to go down into Lucifer's prison and rescue Sam from that fiery pit. "Dean, I know how you miss your brother," I said. He looked at me and nodded sadly. "But I can give him back to you."

"I wish you could, Cas."

I stepped in front of Dean, slipping my hand behind his neck and pulling him into me for a kiss. Into the kiss I put all of my promise to bring back his brother. And I used it to describe how much I hated being away from him. And how much I wanted him to be happy. I pulled away and ran my thumb over his thick bottom lip. "I can do it for you, Dean. I do everything for you."

Before he could answer me, I left his dream and instead traveled to Hell. Unlike when I raised Dean, the security was nearly impossible. But I was so determined. My Free Will lessons in Heaven were not going well. And I _needed_ to do this for Dean. Using all of my powers, I found a hidden passageway into the cage where Lucifer was chained alongside my other elder brother, Michael. I watched in horror as they tore and raged at a hopeless light flickering between them… this light was Sam's soul. Just getting a tiny glimpse of it, I could already see how badly damaged it was. Automatically, I began to panic. I could not put that hideously ruined thing back in Sam. He would disintegrate in a matter of minutes. That was not a burden I could place on my dear friend.

But what I did to him instead was not any better. I brought Sam back soulless. This was the start of my downfall. I was too greedy. I wanted so badly to be successful and needed, to impress Dean and the Heavenly host. My arrogance was disgusting and dangerous. And I was only going to get worse from there.


	16. Chapter 16

With newly claimed arrogance, I returned home where I was immediately informed that Raphael had been asking for me. I, of course did not want to go anywhere near my brother. He had fought so hard against me in order to make sure the apocalypse would happen. And there was no way that he would be ignorant to the fact that it was me who had kept it from happening. Our meeting definitely would not be a pleasant one. But I was no coward, so I went nonetheless.

I walked through a richly decorated home. The floors were mahogany and the lighting was trimmed with gold and bronze. On the walls were pictures of great American victories, achieved without mercy for the 'little guy.' This was just the sort of Heaven Raphael _would_ choose to be comfortable in. With Gabriel dead and Lucifer and Michael in the cage, he was the very last archangel; therefore, he felt superior over all of the rest of us. Just like whosever Heaven this was, Raphael took pride in the physically strong. In his eyes, I would always be weak: the little brother with too much heart who lately always seemed to be getting in the way. I knew this, and that was why I did not hold stock in the words he welcomed me with. "You came… I appreciate the _courage_ that takes."

"What do you want?" I asked, sitting down, cautiously.

"Tomorrow I've called for a full assembly of the Holy Host. You will kneel before me and pledge allegiance to the flag, alright?"

My breath was caught heavy in my throat as he spoke. "And what flag is that?" I asked, deliberately trying to be difficult.

"Me, Castiel. Allegiance to me." Raphael's voice was laced with annoyance. If I wasn't so angry at his attempting to make me bow down to him, I probably would have laughed. "You rebelled against God, Heaven, and me." I cast my eyes down and away from him, willing my mouth to stay closed. I had _always_ stayed true to our father. God loved Earth and the humans. He would not want to see them burn because of his sons. I had to stop it all to save his creation. Yes, I had rebelled against Heaven and my family, but it was because they were corrupt! "Now, you will atone. We'll start by freeing Michael and Lucifer from their cage and getting our show back on the road."

"Raphael, no!" I urged. "The apocalypse doesn't have to be fought!"

His eyes widened in alarm at my outburst, but I knew that my simple words were not going to bring him to seeing sense. "Of course it does; it's God's will."

"How can you say that?" I spit at him.

"Because," he started, the ghost of a smile curling at the sides of his lips, "it's what I want."

My brother was corrupted with his own greed. His own power hungry mission for paradise. "Well, the other angels won't let you," I told him.

"Are you sure?" I glanced away from him as his dark eyes continued to bore into me. "You know better than anyone, Castiel. They're soldiers. They were not built for freedom, they were built to follow."

He was right: I did know more than anyone. I had been there since the beginning, never questioning anything, always just carrying out the orders from above. God and his will was my sole purpose. It was the whole reason that I was a living creature. Not once did I care about freedom. When Anna was filled with blasphemous intentions, I stood with the others and pushed her from Heaven, watching expressionless as she and her grace fell far, far away. All of those years I could not understand why she would do such a thing. But Dean Winchester had showed me what humanity means. And being able to love and to feel was so much better than being another blind soldier of Heaven, even though it hurt. It was worth it to hurt. I stood up from my chair and narrowed my eyes at my older brother. "Then _I_ won't let you."

"Really?" he asked, an amused look on his arrogant face. "_You_?"

Raphael summoned his grace into the palm of his hand expelled it at me, sending me sprawling through Heavens with my insides churning until I finally came to land in my favorite garden. I keeled over, coughing blood onto grass. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him standing above me. After coughing once more, I met his gaze. "Tomorrow you will kneel, Castiel, or you and anyone with you dies." He disappeared with a flap of his ebony wings, leaving me to continue to slump on the ground in pain.

In time, I rose pathetically to my feet and brushed myself off. I had to see Dean. But as I stood near him, watching his muscles ripple under his shirt as he raked the fallen leaves on the ground, I did not feel any better. I felt wrong to trouble him with my problems. Dean had been trying so hard to put his life as a hunter behind him. I knew that he still suffered from the nightmares and that he still slept with a loaded gun and holy water under his bed, but he was trying so very hard. We had stopped the apocalypse. He had lost his brother in the doing so. Only for me to come back just a few weeks later and tell him that I needed his help stopping it all over again. I just couldn't do it to him… but I also couldn't face this fight on my own.

And just like that, help came, but not in a form I should have trusted. The demon Crowley spoke my name and I felt my blood boil. "What are you doing here?" I growled at him, turning to face away from Dean, guarding him from the foul creature that now stood before me.

He smirked at my mistrust. "I'm here to help you help me help ourselves. I want to discuss a simple business transaction."

"You want to make a deal?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in disbelief. "With me? I'm an angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell."

"That's just it, isn't it? The souls." Crowley took a small step towards me, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn't it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike. I'm talking about happy endings for all of us with all possible entendres intended… come on." I eyed him suspiciously as he beckoned me to follow him. "It's just a chat."

"I have no interest in talking with you," I told him, but there was no mistaking a small desire to hear more about these souls he spoke of.

He smiled. "Why not? I'm a very interesting person. Come on, hear me out. Five minutes. No obligations, I promise." I stole a look back at Dean. Was I really going to leave him to listen to the puss-oozing words of this Hell-scum? "I'll make it worth your while." But I was smarter than Crowley. I had the common sense not to get roped up in some idiotic scheme of his. I could get out at any time and seek out help from Dean if I needed. All I was going to do was listen. For five minutes.

Alongside the demon, I traveled to Hell… but it was much changed from what I had seen of it not long ago when I had raised Sam. We walked along dark, stuffy corridors with bad lighting until we reached a queue of people all standing with shoulders slumped and with dead looks in their eyes. So this was Hell with Crowley in charge. An endless time of bad people waiting in a line that would never end. Suffering for all eternity in impatience and dread… I couldn't help but admire his work, but I would never let him know that.

Then he began to speak to me, and his words were like poison… but a sweet kind that lured me in. He spoke the truth: that the angels were made to be ruled. That Raphael was stronger than me. I knew all of this. But he said he had faith that I could lead the angels against my brother. "Are you proposing that I start a civil war in Heaven? You're asking me to be the next Lucifer!"

"Please," he said rolling his eyes, "Lucifer was a petulant child with daddy issues. Cas, you love God; God loves you. He brought you back. Didn't it ever occur to you that he did that so that you can be the new sheriff upstairs?"The thoughts began swimming through my mind. Heaven under my command would be peaceful and free of strife. We all could do just as we pleased, and there would be no more worrying about fighting anyone. But it was just a dream. Like both Crowley and I knew, I was not strong enough to take on Raphael, and I did not understand what he was proposing we do to build up my powers. "What if I told you that I knew how to go nuclear?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He leaned in close so that I could smell the expensive scotch on his breath. "Purgatory, my friend. Purgatory."

His five minutes had run out, but still I kept listening, his voice becoming more and more excited the longer I let him continue. I should have just killed him there and walked away. But I was already in. I let him tell me his plan on kidnapping monsters who would tell us where the gates of Purgatory were located. Alphas were mainly what he was interested in. He would hire hunters to bring them into him. He would bribe them with a juicy incentive, and they would give him whatever he wanted. And in time we would have the knowledge on how to open the gates to take the souls. With these souls at my hand, I would have the power of a god to bring down Raphael and his apocalyptic plans. Once everything was settled, Crowley and I would go our separate ways. Him and his demons would stay in Hell, minding their own business, just sending out small temptations on the human race every now and again. Nothing too harmful. And the angels would stay in Heaven. The humans would live in ignorance, just as they should. All would be well.

It sounded so harmless when he said it the way that he did. And I was so desperate for peace and for someone to give me answers. So foolishly, I said yes. I agreed to his scheme, and we went about setting our plan into action. His first move was to resurrect Samuel Campbell, Sam and Dean's grandfather. He was a skilled hunter in his time, and would do very well at bringing Crowley the alphas he so sought. And me, I went back to Heaven, with 50,000 souls, filling me with power that I used to blast my brother into an oblivion. The angels who had been at his side looked at me, eyes full of fear and awe. "There will be no apocalypse!" I announced unto them. "And let it be known: you are either with Raphael or with me."

I left them their with slack jaws to take in what I had said. They would spread the word throughout Heaven. That we were in a civil war, and it was up to everyone to choose their side. The idea of waring against my own family should have sent chills up my spine, but I was too empowered by my glory. I did not feel weak. I felt right. Crowley's words echoed in my ears and egged me on: "You can save us, Castiel. God chose you to save us." He was right. This was God's will. And I would see it done.


	17. Chapter 17

My responsibilities were great now that I was in charge of Heaven. The other angels were still in slight panic now that the archangels were no longer taking care of things. It was understandable, of course. Since all of us could remember, Michael watched out for all of us. He wrote out our orders. We went to him with questions or concerns. Now that was my job. And even though I hated to admit it, not everyone was comfortable with that. They had a difficult time looking past me as their younger brother, Castiel: the one who loved too much. The one who had abandoned them for a man on Earth.

So yes some of them continued to look at me with caution. Those were the siblings I paid extra attention to, for they were neither directly on my side, nor directly on Raphael's. I could not risk them joining my older brother. He did not need any more power. I needed all that I could get, in case mine and Crowley's plan for Purgatory was to fail.

I hated conspiring with the filth that was the king of Hell. His poison tongue had its way of singing praises to my ego that I could never seem to refuse. Every time I met with him in order to check up on his progress, my grace flickered from the immorality of what I was doing just by being in the same room as him. "If it isn't my favorite Hell's Angel," he taunted one day as I walked into his lair. A shapeshifter lay naked on the slab in front of him, whimpering in pain as Crowley cut another slice in her wrist with a sliver knife. The creature gnashed her teeth as her flesh sizzled in contact with the blade. "Still not going to tell me where the gate is, sweet pea? Or shall we try an even sweeter spot to stick this silver?" Crowley dragged his knife down the shapeshifter's stomach and pressed down just enough so that blood beaded up as he cut loops into her pelvis. She began to quiver as his lips curled into a sick smile. "Shall I go lower?" he purred, knife digging into the soft dip of skin at her hip.

"Enough," I snarled unable to watch the vile display any longer.

Crowley raised his head slowly to look at me, his knife not moving from out of the creature's stomach. "Getting soft again, Castiel?" he asked as the woman writhed in torment, curses flowing from between her chapped lips. "We've talked about this. If we want answers, we've got to play rough."

I shook my head and turned my back on the sight, hoping that not looking at her would make the sounds she was making easier to endure. "I don't… is this _really_ the only way?"

"Yes," he answered plainly, finally pulling the knife from her. She gasped in pained relief before her sobbing filled the room. Crowley placed the knife on a cart along with the other instruments of torture and crossed over to stand closer to me. "Y'know, I was confused with you before, feeling sentimental with humans and all. It's not natural. But this is a whole new level of freak, Cas. These are _monsters_. The bottom-feeding sewage that your lover-boy and pet moose seek out and kill every single day. You aren't supposed to feel bad for _them_."

Frustration itched under my skin as I narrowed my eyes at the demon. "It isn't _them_ that I feel for, but rather this whole situation. I am an angel, you maggot. A being more powerful than any other, and I am reduced to conspiring with _you_. I am aware that I am desperate, but I can still drop you. So I'd be careful of what you say to me."

Instead of backing off as I anticipated, Crowley stepped closer to me, his lips twitching with something between amusement and annoyance. "So you _don't_ need me? Is that right? Because the last time I checked, you've no other options, Feathers." He paused to study my face for a hint of submission, but there was no way that I was letting into him. I knew where he was planning on taking this, but rather than cutting him off, I gave him the silence so that he could continue. "We've already got Sam minus the soul working on our side… so you can't go to him seeking empathetic bro-hugs. He'd much rather get his hands dirty rather than talk it out. And I must say, it is a vast improvement from the big friendly giant he was before. I admire your handy work." I clenched my fists at my sides as a warning, but still I said nothing. He smiled at me before rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb and moved to pace around me. "And then there's Dean: he's got your number, it's been more than the three day wait, and he's still not called you. Sorry love, but I don't think he's interested."

"Don't you dare talk about him," I growled, my eyes burning with hate.

"Oh, we are a sensitive one, aren't we? You used to fuck him, didn't you?" My body was numb with anger. So much so that it was hard to move. "You did. And now he's with that Lisa woman. And what's worse, your bowlegged boy toy is actually happy. He is happy without you, Castiel. And you know it. If he wasn't, you'd still be under him, panting as he called out your name." He chuckled at the image he'd created and stood directly in front of me, once again. "So you won't go to him for help, because it hurts too much. No, you'll stay here: working with me and pining after him. And all the while, his thoughts of you will become less and less now that he's got _her_."

My rage boiled over, and in the next instant, Crowley was on the floor. I straddled his hips as I crushed my fist into his face. He laughed as I tore at him, gripped his shoulders and slammed him down against the hard, tiled floor. Slurs of broken threats flew from my mouth as I soaked my knuckles with his blood. His truth was the nightmares that haunted me at all times. Dean had moved on from me. Not only as a lover but even as an associate. He did not pray to me anymore. Not to tell me how he was doing. Not to wonder how I was. Nothing. There was just silence. I was hardly ever in his dreams. He was truly forgetting about me. And that hurt worse than dying.

But I had a demon beneath me to take out my pain on. I had this garbage to rip apart and put together again only to destroy a thousand times. And even then it wouldn't be enough. Because no matter how much I made this cretin bleed, it didn't give Dean back to me. It didn't make up for those gentle touches against my jaw. Of the smell of him on my clothes. Or the feel of his teeth grazing my lip. It didn't bring back rides in the Impala as Kansas blasts through the speakers on an old American road. These were memories and not the future. I couldn't get back what I had because that's not how the world works. All that I could do, was do my job. End Raphael. Give the Earth peace once and for all and a just power to watch over it. That was my responsibility. And the only way to make it happen was to stay focused and to stay in partnership with the demon who was slipping into unconsciousness below me.

At last, I stayed my hand. I clutched Crowley by the lapels of his suit jacket stained with his own blood and brought his oozing, swollen face to mine. "Don't talk about Dean Winchester." I stood up and left the demon coughing wetly behind me as I crossed over to the shapeshifter still on the slab. Her eyes went wide with fear as I looked down at her. "Please," I said to her. "Do not try my patience. Where is the entrance to Purgatory?"

"I-I-I don't know," she pleaded, tears leaking down her cheeks. "I swear! I don't know!"

Plucking the silver knife from the cart, I sighed heavily. "Then you are of no further use to me." Before the creature could beg anymore, I drove the knife into her chest and twisted. She cried out as her last eager breaths met her lungs but not doing any good, because soon she was gone. Gone to Purgatory. The one place I needed to get to.

I walked back over to where Crowley still lay on the floor. He flinched as I knelt beside him. "Keep looking. I will be back to check on your progress." I touched his forehead, clearing him of the wounds I had afflicted him with and then left with a flutter of wings.


End file.
